Sheer Humanity

This week, a few others and I, somewhat spontaneously, started sharing with each other about our experiences with race. It was humbling and somber, yet encouraging and hopeful. Our shared experiences created a foundation for us to work with a common understanding and commitment to learning what we don't know, and responding to what we now know. For me, it was liberating - to know that I was joined by a community that not only will share with me in pain and sorrow, but to celebrate our joys and join together in hope for what can be.

Most importantly, however, I was taught an important lesson about our sheer humanity. In our conversation, I was reminded by one of the group that what binds us together in our journey for justice and liberation aren't common frameworks or theories of change. Our identities are not abstractions or theories because they are the result of lived experiences. What connects us is far greater, and yet far simpler, than can be intellectualized - our sheer humanity that sees each other as God's beautiful creation.

As we were talking, someone made the point that sometimes, discussions about equity can be as simple as that. It's a concept that I frankly have lost among books, articles, and research papers. I've lost it through conferences on racial equity, panel discussions on equitable development, and roundtables on justice organizing. I was encouraged by my colleagues that in our despair about the world around us, recognizing and celebrating our sheer (and thus unmitigated, unwavering, and simple) humanity will take us one small step at a time to where we need to be.

It's that sheer humanity that reminds us to listen first, to listen not to find solutions for someone's else's problem, but to recognize their pain and celebrate their joys.

It's that sheer humanity where "I see you" and "I hear your voice" can mean far more than what I can give you.

It's that sheer humanity where we go beyond allyship to friendship, beyond marching together to breaking bread together and being a part of each others' families.

It's that sheer humanity that gives us the confidence to know that no one is better than you are, but the humility to recognize that you are not better than anyone else (apparently this was Joe Biden's mother's saying, so this is not original).

It's that sheer humanity that allows us to grieve with someone we barely know, because their suffering reminds us of the brokenness of the world we all share.

It's that sheer humanity that celebrates how God made us all different in our beautiful, unique ways, and rather than hiding what makes us different, it can encourage us to weave together the tapestry of His creation.

It's that sheer humanity that recognizes that your time is as valuable as mine, and no check is more valuable than checking in with someone and asking how they're doing.

It's that sheer humanity that can probably transform the energy from my next angry Facebook post into time just being a part of someone's life.

It's that sheer humanity that recognizes that my despair about something shouldn't diminish yours, and even if I disagree with you, if you're having a bad day, I should offer my shoulder before I do my words.

If you know me, you know that I don't do many of those things well. But maybe this reminder about our sheer humanity is coming at the right time. It's a time for resolutions and commitments for the year, and maybe I'll just start with doing the simple things.