As I wrote in my last post, that first Christmas program at the detention center was truly remarkable. 

The following Monday the students were still immersed in the afterglow of their wonderful performance. Our school morning began by rehashing the great event. I, too, was still feeling the euphoria, and I was eager to let them know how proud I was of them. “I thought the whole program was perfect!” I told them. “At first I thought maybe I was just prejudiced because I know you all. But then I realized even the people who don’t know you also thought it was amazing!”

At that moment, a young African-American boy named Jonathan blurted out, “Oh no! I didn’t think ANYONE there was prejudiced!”

Stifling a chuckle, I paused to take in all the innocence of that dear, sweet boy. Barely a teenager, his worst offense was running away from his court-assigned foster placement. Like many other students, this tender child suffered from emotional problems and struggled in his regular school. 

I tried to explain my remarks to him and to make him aware of the different uses of the word “prejudiced.” I’m not convinced he ever fully understood what I was trying to convey. 

One powerful word

On the other hand, I certainly had a lot to think about afterwards. Up to that point, I had never considered the soul-crushing weight that one word —prejudice — holds for so many people. 

With Jonathan’s comment, my eyes opened a bit wider to take in this reality multitudes face on a daily basis. I pondered how many times in his short life he had been in a group and worried whether or not the people there would accept him. I realized it was something I never had to deal with. Because I am white, I would most likely never be in a public setting and have serious concerns about how others would respond to me. 

There are adults, highly respected leaders in our community, who are some of the most upstanding and outstanding people I know. They are model citizens with impeccable integrity, loving souls devoted to serving others. And yet, their exemplary character won’t spare them from unjust treatment. 

When they go shopping, they are not surprised when store security officers follow them to make sure they don’t shoplift. When they walk down the street, they notice women clutching their handbags more tightly, or they observe pedestrians crossing to the other side of the street to avoid meeting them face to face. It happens to professionals—doctors, police officers, educators ,ministers.

And it happens also to countless others, for no reason other than their skin tone.

‘No satisfaction’

I will never experience that, and though I am grateful to be accepted, I can feel no satisfaction as long as others are marginalized. 

More than 25 years ago this was my lesson. Sadly, I am reminded that prejudice retains its unrelenting grip on our world even today. Much prejudice seems to center on race. But it also arises over sexual preference, religious beliefs, education, economic standing. In other words, there can be prejudice based on whatever criteria by which we decide to judge.

When I decided to retire from teaching at detention, I thought I wanted to get involved with teaching tolerance. Heaven knows we are in dire need of tolerance in today’s world. Somewhere along the way, however, I began to feel that wasn’t enough. From my perspective, if we focus on mere tolerance, we are still keeping people at arm’s length.

We seem to be saying, “Maybe we can all get along together, but don’t bother me, and I won’t bother you.” 

If that becomes our mindset, we are missing the mark on human connection. It has to go much deeper. It must move to a level where we acknowledge the value of one another.

 Obligation to love

My feelings became more articulate and firmly rooted after listening to a Tim Ferriss podcast interview with Sen. Cory Booker. In the interview, Booker talks about the shortcomings of mere tolerance. He mentioned that our founding fathers wanted us to be deeply committed to one another. He asks us to ask ourselves, “Do you believe patriotism obliges you to love?” 

He urges us all to really look at one another and to say, “I see you! I love you!” 

And when we can’t see eye-to-eye, Booker talks about the importance of surrendering. We need to relinquish our egos and our personal positions long enough to get to know those with whom we disagree. “Take time to see them and to feel in your heart a love that Americans should feel to each other.” 

Now, that’s how I want to view all the people I encounter in my life.

I want to see them, embrace them, and wholly honor their dignity through love and acceptance. Admittedly, I’m as imperfect as the next person. Even so, I want to keep heading closer to the ideals I treasure. When I catch myself falling into the negativity of comparison or judgment—when I’m firmly convinced my way is better than someone else’s—I want to hit pause …

and then reset …

I want to hold on until I can feel it and honestly say, “I see you! I love you!”