Compassion

In keeping with this year's season of my life, I had two friends visiting me from out of town last week, one from fair Hamilton, NY and the other, a surprise guest from Boston on her way back from Thailand and Bali. The former was in town for a job interview, and as she got the job, she jetted out a few days early to go pack to come back. The latter, had just had a rough trip and suffered a close family loss (another reoccurring theme this year), so when Shoshana found 2 extra tickets to see the Dalai Lama, I figured it was Divine providence that she should accompany us.

Saturday, the 3 of us made the pilgrimage down to Qwest field where the main event would be held. It was a gorgeous day, warm and sunny and perfect. I have been reading the autobiography of the Dalai Lama for the last year. It's one of those books I read a little of in between less serious books. He is an interesting person and I went, like lots of people went, hoping for a moment of revelation...a church sermon ah hah moment. Instead, I got a bracelet, generously distributed by the seeds of compassion folk, and a great view of the back of the Dalai's head. Okay, I'm not saying it wasn't cool...the Dalai Lama has a fabulous sense of humor, so from the parts I was able to understand, I at least had a good laugh, but once again (I swear this is like a reoccurring theme) I was seriously irritated by white people and their social hierarchy.

There must have been like 12 people introducing the Dalai Lama. There was the Katy Couric look alike from King 5, and a barrage of even less recognizable representatives of the upper eschelan who gave speeches...stupid speeches about nothing, each stating exactly what the other had that they were "so honored to have this chance to introduce the Dalai Lama" and this would be followed up with an exercise in how many times you can use the word compassion in a sentence. Come on people, get a thesaurus! The only three that are even worth remarking upon further were: William Bell, founder of the Casey Family Foundation. He talked about compassion for children and his action plan to help alleviate the need for foster families. Then there was Christine Gregoir...our esteemed Governor, who talked also about all the children she has helped to get health care and adequate education through the legislation she has passed. I have to gibe her props. She is doing some amazing stuff. And then there was the dude from the first nations, whose name I totally didn't catch.

First nations guy was dressed in the ceremonial garb, huge feather headdress and all. He didn't actually have a lot to say other than to acknowledge the tribes native to this area and to mention the fact that before Quest Field was here it was native lands....some important white guy in a speech after his made some irritating follow up comment (that was both condescending and stupid) about how we should really show compassion towards the Native Americans and I was like "too late!" It's pretty damn easy to show compassion to people once they're dead or otherwise nonthreatening...it reminded me of the time I was listening to NPR about how the Mormons were posthumously baptising the victims of the Holocaust so that those "poor Jews" could have an opportunity to ascend to heaven. I am not making this up. Some would describe their actions as compassionate, and the rest of us would say they had a lot of frickin nerve....the audacity often astounds me.

And then he made the comment that just makes me cringe every time I hear it about how race, gender, class, and all those other parts of our identity that make us who we are don't really matter. How we should show compassion to everyone despite it. HOW Privileged! That's great that when you're a rich, important, white, man, little things like that don't matter, but for the rest of us, our identities come with realities that impact everything about our lives from whether or not we can buy shampoo at the grocery store to whether or not we can get a job, be educated and learn histories that reflect the contributions our people have made in society. I had a 5th grader ask me if I was from Africa yesterday. I told him no, I'm from Iowa. And he got all confused....he said "but your skin is brown...and your hair, you look like an African." I said yeah, but I was born in Iowa and raised in Wisconsin and when I trace my family tree back for the last several generations, on my mom's side everyone is from Iowa and on my Dad's side, they are all from the south.

I am AMERICAN like apple pie, arrogance, and the dogma of religious freedom. But even a 5th grader can tell you, that is not all you see when you look at me. My Challenge, my question is can you have compassion for me when it does matter? Can you confront your discomfort and fear of who I am and how who you are is complicit in my oppression and move beyond it, not despite me, but because of me, because you genuinely want to know and empathize with me, because you are ready to begin a new conversation? When you can have that kind of compassion for me, I will stop making snide comments and show compassion for you with my eyes open to who you are and what kind of a shared history we have.

Until then, all we can share is a day at Qwest field...you "so moved and honored" to be in the presence a great spiritual leader, and me as sarcastic as ever, loving the part when the Dalai Lama told us to figure out our own issues and that he didn't have the answers for everything. I appreciated the honesty.