DAVID AND GOLIATH

My daughter Carolyn's recent interview with author Susan Verde has made me do some soul searching.

Surely I'm not a racist, I thought to myself. Surely I'm not part of that segment of the population that's oppressive to others. Surely my use of words like eskimo or black sheep isn't that bad? And is it offensive to say that all Asian stiudents are good at math or that all Filipinos are nurturing? 

Of course it is and I plead guilty as charged.

Again, have I ever let a homophobic remark by a "friend" slide by without a comment?  

Guilty again. My silence is the coward's way out.

Next I wonder if I've ever used the color of my skin to advantage. Not me! Surely not me! an inner voice protests.

But then I wonder why I was chosen over a host of other volunteers of many ethnicities to play Santa Claus at a children's hospital? And further, what about the ease with which we moved into new neighborhoods, acquired a family doctor or found services for needed repairs? And going way back, what my about summer jobs and good marks at school?

Guilty by association is what a jury would rule.

Whenever I recall  the story of David and Goliath, I tend to associate with David, the underdog, the hero in the tale. In fact, Malcolm Gladwell has written a whole book about it to illustrate how all of us can learn to overcome our greatest fears, the giants in our lives. 

But now I realize, after Carolyn's interview, that my take on this story is all wrong. In fact, I understand that unwittingly, because of things like color of my skin and the size of my house, I have become the giant. I've been the one to sometimes take a spot more deserved by another, to say mine instead of ours, to use my privilege when I should have been using my compassion.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa.

I can and will do better!