riches and freedom

"If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time.

But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together"

- Aboriginal activists group, Queensland, 1970s

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Yesterday was a very normal Tuesday. I was in one of the neighborhood clinics, following the peds MD around to visit her majority Spanish-speaking patients. In the middle of a visit, one of the other MDs popped her head in to ask when we'd be done, since they had a meeting at noon.
"And they made some beans for lunch, they're in the back, if you want some." she said before her head disappeared behind the door.

Come lunchtime, I made my way back into the breakroom. When I rounded the corner I saw, to my amazement, not one, but two crock pots sitting on the tiny green counter, walled in by cabinets and lockers, crammed into the tiny space along with  a refrigerator, water cooler, and a table and chairs. A few of the RNs and other staff were hanging out, or passing through. I made my way to the refrigerator to get my lunch out, but after a minute, I got up my courage and dared to ask. "Can I have some too?" "Of course you can!" came the reply, "This is an equal opportunity lunch!" So I got a styrofoam cupful of pinto beans 'n pork and sat myself down at the table with a couple of the RNs. 

After a few minutes I learned that one of the employees, Ms. E, had made those beans, and brought them to clinic for all the staff to share. Not only that; knowing that one of the staff didn't eat pork for religious reasons,  she had made a second, smaller crock pot full of beans with chicken. I asked if there were some sort of occasion, and learned that no, Ms. E just cooks sometimes. I was floored. 

After a while, Ms. E herself came in and sat down with us. She turned out to be getting on into her 6th decade of life, with beautiful, smooth, dark-chocolate colored skin, and, as she described it, cooking gave her something to do when she got home. 

So for the rest of my lunch, I sat with her and the two other nurses and mostly just listened. The conversation meandered from cooking, to grandparents, to naming children, with lots of laughter and good humor in between. I joined in when I could, and tried to listen with my whole heart, because I was delighted to be welcomed into such comfortable table conversation with people so different from me. It was like being in a different country, in the best way.
In the end we all thanked Ms E for lunch, and said our goodbyes before going back to work.
  

Since then, I keep telling people about Ms. E's generosity, because I cannot get over it. She routinely spends her money and time buying and making food, so she can bring it to share with her coworkers, because she wants to?! Who does that?? What a beautiful way to love! What an excess of generosity, coming from just exactly who she is!

And I keep thinking about that and my experience around the table with her and the other nurses, because in America right now, we are struggling. We are struggling to get over this divide we've created between different people groups. Our culture, our system right now makes people despair of being treated fairly, makes people fear for their lives, exacerbates people's poverty. But the thing is that in creating this divide, we've hurt both sides - the oppressed and the privileged. 

Privilege is not unharmed by this dynamic of systematic oppression. Our culture right now prevents amazing people - like Ms. E and the nurses I sat with - from flourishing, and the rest of us miss out. Even if those women aren't specifically targeted, the divide we've created between their culture and white culture impoverishes us all. We silence them, and criminalize them, and we lose. We lose the richness our life could have if we helped our compatriots to flourish, instead of perpetuating a world where they and their families struggle, on some level, for every basic dignity.

I understand - better than many - how hard it can be when two cultures collide, and have to figure out how to relate to one another and respect one another. But I want to live in a country where we at least try to give dignity and space to the different cultures we contain. I work mostly with the hispanic/latino population in my city, and there is also a large African American population, as well as South East Asian and Korean populations. What would it look like for America to truly be the "melting pot" we learn about in American History? What kind of Beloved Community might we see?