Teach Our Children Well

 

  “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’” Jesus Mat 22:37-39

 

  Hate is a terrible thing. We humans are very adept at finding reasons to hate or mock or ridicule. 

  I attended some training yesterday for work: First Aid and CPR. I learned a lot more than the last time. I also learned a great deal about prejudice.

  Women are far less likely to receive CPR as quickly as a man because of our anatomy. People are far more uncomfortable with the idea of cutting the clothes away from someone who has breasts, never mind placing hand to chest to provide life saving measures. Maybe this isn’t exactly hate based, but due to the increased sensitivity around sexual harassment. The two couldn’t be farther apart.

  If I am dying, touch me, please!!

  Throughout the day, the instructor regaled us with tales about “old people” she heard from her paramedic husband. Some “poked fun” at deafness. Some “poked fun” at what age does to a body. Had the words, “old lady” been replaced with a colour or nationality it would have been utterly unacceptable on so many levels.

  It gave me pause. Last week’s conversations have me mulling over the idea that, because I am white, I have never been a victim of prejudice. Hearing what I heard yesterday revealed just how subtly prejudice has managed to weave its way into our lives. Ageisms are prejudice.

  Many years ago, I was involved with the municipal government in a battle against intensive agriculture. During one session of open Q&A, an older neighbour smiled, gave my shoulder a paternal pat and quietly whispered he had gone around the room and assured everyone, “I was smarter than I looked.”

  I was never one for fuss and feathers and adornment. I was clean, professional, and had an arsenal of memorized facts, statistics and medical information supporting my stand yet, I “looked” stupid? How does wearing or not wearing a skirt impact my brain?

  Lately, I’ve been criticized for “thinking too deeply.” It’s who I am. I think. I read. I learn. I explore and wonder and question. Why is this even an issue? Would it be okay if I was male? (Lord, I taste the bitterness in my mouth after asking that.)

  I’ve also been “classified” as not being very feminine. Comfort far outweighs the expectations I should be in heels or spend hours donning make-up and crimping my hair. It simply isn’t me. It never was. It might be you and that’s okay.

  Getting quotes for the renovation was a terrifying prospect simply because I am a woman on her own. To be safe, I arranged for three different contractors to bid on the job. A man from the city came up. His casual, verbal quote was ridiculously overpriced unless I was using marble and real gold. I thanked him for his time knowing he had tried to take advantage. He had no way of knowing I knew how much the job should cost because I had researched the heck out of it and had extensive experience with renovations.

  A week later, he called, asking if I was going to hire him. I firmly said, “No.” saving the outrage for when I was off the phone although, perhaps I should have let him have it for what he was trying to do. It might have made him more honest with other women. (It would appear there are still some life lessons I need to address.)

  Is it prejudice to assume contractors and other trades like mechanics attempt to take advantage of my gender? No…it happens frequently but I take each situation as it comes, knowing there are many wonderful business people who don’t have a gender bias. I ask friends for references and guidance as needed. That’s just smart.

  The contractor I hired was a company owned by a woman. The first thing she said was along these lines, “Because I am a woman running this business, we have to be better than anyone else.” She wasn’t the cheapest but was the most thorough in her quotes, her questions and gave clear answers to mine. Everything was in writing. Every step was documented. Every step of the way she was professional and respectful. That’s why I hired her, not because of her gender.

  I’ve had to work a long time to overcome the objectification of women rampant in our society. I lived many years with someone who would identify women as “it” until I finally spoke up and put a stop to this. But the lesson was learned. Women were frequently (usually) referred to by other, disgustingly profane names, especially successful ones. Some highly offensive names I put a stop to but the damage was done.

  Because of my gender and toxic lessons like this, I believed I was “less than.”

  A lifetime of being a victim of prejudice will do this. It steals rights. It steals dignity. It suffocates love and acceptance. It crushes unique expressions of individuality. It pulverizes our intrinsic value as people to dust. The tentacles of prejudice reach far and wide, far beyond the colour of our skin.

  Thank God, I am free…sort of. I can’t help but be the woman God made me to be. Why do I feel the need to apologize?

  Growing up I would hear my dad using racial slurs like “Coon” and “Woolly”. I didn’t understand the significance or why he used such words to describe the black man in the car beside us. Maybe it was the contempt in his voice I heard but my child’s heart knew it was mean and nasty. He sounded just like the kids who called me “fatty”.

  Children don’t start out prejudiced. We teach them.

  Forgive me, Lord, for not teaching my own children better, daughter and sons alike. Forgive me for perpetrating the awful, unspoken, prejudice infused lessons of “gender rights and identity.”

  I confess, as well, that even though I never repeated the words my father used, I grew up using other culturally based slurs, especially when they were “funny.” I called other kids names, too. Those who are unaccepted find others “less acceptable” than them to pay the pain forward. This doesn’t justify or excuse my actions, but clearly demonstrates what I said in my opening sentence, “Hate is a terrible thing.”

  Thank You, Lord, I am more aware than ever just how hurtful my actions were to others. Thank You that I can personally identify, conquer and forever silence the prejudicial attitudes, ideas and language that are entrenched in my subconscious.

  Discrimination is also the ability to recognize and understand the difference between one thing and another such as right and wrong. This is a good thing.