TheBanyanTree: so small

[sash]

It hardly seemed the time or place for political enlightenment, but the
Glacier Presbytery Summer Camp in 1974 was when I first stepped into the
murky, polluted waters of our political system.  And just like those icy
dives into glacier-fed Flathead Lake, this dip into the deep end of our
national leadership chilled me to the core.

There were about 80 8-10 year olds gathered in the common room.  Sitting
on ping-pong tables, curled up in the overstuffed chairs and leaning
against the cool stones of the massive fireplace, we were wondering why
the counselors had dragged us away from our sports and swimming and craft
project.  Pastor John (PJ to us kids) got our attention and said that we
were all going to listen to the radio.  He told us that history was being
made and that, young as we were, this was a day we would probably
remember.

He was certainly right.  Sitting on the floor of a camping lodge in
Montana, I listened while the President of the United States - a man that
my parents had voted for - resigned his office under the shadow of lies
and coverups and treachery.

I can still feel in my body how very small I became - sitting there in my
damp swimming suit - listening to that voice and feeling the rest of the
room sort of falling away from me.

This was the President.

Our President.

How could he quit?  Why would he quit?  If he really did those things, or
knew about those things that I saw on the news - well, then why did my
parents vote for him?  Why did they support him even now?

On that summer day, just one week before my 10th birthday, I realized that
adults have no idea what's going on.  I discovered, in that moment, that
my parents, who always seem big and loud and sure of themselves, really
could make mistakes - and monstrously huge mistakes at that.  While I
often tell this story in fun, a singular coming of age moment that sparked
my independent and questioning nature, the reality was not funny at all. 
The reality was terrifying to me and I spent a lot of time wondering what
would happen to a world where everyone was just bumbling along.

I continue to be alarmed by the reality that WE are the adults in charge. 
When someone looks for an expert in my field, I'm it.  But knowing how
much I'm flying by the seat of my pants, I know that you are all - at some
time or another - winging it too.

This morning was a difficult one in our household.  Whatever your beliefs
or values, you must be a little alarming by a country so divided.  Like a
contestant on "Who wants to be a millionaire" who decides to poll the
audience and then gets an exact random spread of votes, it's frightening
that a nation can be so passionately undecided about the best course of
action.

My son is 11 years old.  This is the first election he will really
remember and there was a lot on the ballot here in Oregon.  He has seen
the lawn signs and discussed the issues.  He has very clear ideas - guided
by our teachings but born of his own sense of justice and world order.

This morning I had to tell him that our state constitution will be
changed.  As a people, the state of Oregon has made a decision that breaks
my heart and offends my soul.  For me it is a sad measure of our fear and
selfishness.  To Ned, it is simply that "The mean people won."

I'm trying hard to wrestle through this with him.  Trying to help him
understand that very kind and compassionate people can disagree about what
is right.  Working to help him see that hardening his own heart to
another's opinion would, in fact, transform him into something less.

How do you teach a child tolerance when what he is trying to accept is, in
fact, intolerance?

How do you help a child see the other side when you yourself feel it is an
untenable position?

This morning, Ned dicovered that the grown-ups might not always know what
they are doing.  I held him in my arms and together we prayed and cried
and talked about what can do to touch our little part of the world.  Ned
cried for the losses of last night.  I cried for the many times this loss
will hit home during his life and for how many times I have to relearn
this lesson.

I held Ned in my arms today and he felt so very small.

-sash