tolerance

i am incredibly tired today
my eyes are puffy and i'm being kept awake thru the help of caffine
(thanks to my wonderful friend shauna who stopped by for a visit with coffee in hand!)
why am i so tired??

easy answer - i stayed up until 1:30 am reading!!
i've been reading a book called "the help" by Kathryn Stockett
and I am just wrapped up in it
i started reading last night around 11, and planned to only read for about 30 minutes. when i finally put the book down cause i couldn't keep my eyes open, i realized it was 1:30. ah the power of a good book

i am fascinated with this book for many reasons
but the main one being that i am just wrapped up in the idea of racism, the idea of tolerance and kindness.
(a quick one liner summary of the book: it's a story -fiction- based in the 1960's where racism is very much alive, black people work as slaves and maids, and one white woman decides that she wants to write a book from the view of 'the help', talking all about what it's like to be a black woman in Mississippi - and the lack of tolerance against integration and equality)
as i'm reading this book (fiction based on the reality of the 60's) i find myself just sick to the stomach over how people are treated. how white people built separate bathrooms so they wouldn't catch "black diseases". how black people couldn't attend the same schools, couldn't have the same doctors, couldn't eat at the same table! i found myself SO thankful for how different the world is today, until i really thought about it

is the world really that different?? or have we moved onto the next thing to be intolerant to?
for the most part, "black" people are treated with more equality. they are termed for ethnicity, not color. they are allowed to be as integrated as possible. but i'm not naiive. i'm very aware that there are still many racists alive and kicking. but i do think we are miles ahead of the 60's in that area.

however, i have been thinking a lot about the modern day "racisms" - stereotypes attached to cultures and race. lack of patience for accents and those we can't understand on the phone due to their lack of english. impatient when you're waiting for your fast food, and the cashier is struggling with her english. or how about sexism - some jobs that are still thought of as only male jobs or only female jobs. people who believe women don't have any place in church leadership. what about ageism - senior abuse and intolerance. bullying and talking down to seniors when their minds start to fade.

but the biggest one that i've been thinking of is intolerance of sexual orientation. homosexuality. using the term "homo" or "gay" to mean something stupid or lame. loving ones neighbour in christian love until you find out that he's attracted to men. zero patience for getting to know them because they feel like they were born different. words of disgust and sickness when hearing of someone's choices. it literally makes me feel like we aren't further ahead, we are just sticking our heads further into the sand!

i think the issue of tolerance and homosexuality is a close one to my heart because i have a couple of friends who are gay (some openly and others not as much). i remember finding out about their sexual orientation, and i remember the responses from others. i remember a dear christian girl friend of mine pressing a sheet of paper into my palm to give to my friend. on it, she had listed a number of scriptures that i should read to him all about how homosexuality is a sin. i was shocked. no where on the paper did she have listed any verses about christ's love. community. encouragement. nope, just a nice list of reasons to feel sinful. i remember ripping up the sheet when i got home. is that really showing Christ?? Is it my job to list someone else's sins? (maybe some of you think so, but I don't) I really think it's my job to be a listening ear. To continue to speak of Christ's love into my friends lives. To continue loving that person for everything they are, not just one thing!

I remember the fear in my friends eyes when he told me he was gay. I remember how nervous he was, how his voice was shaky and how he just waited and watched me as I took in his words. I remember hugging him, and thanking him for telling me (especially since I had a crush on him not that long before this!). I remember telling him that i loved him the same way, the same amount, and that nothing about our friendship would change. and I remember, more than anything, what he said to me after "I told you, because I knew that's what your response would be" It doesn't matter if I think his decision is right or wrong, that is between him and God. What matters is being tolerant. Loving the person for who they are! not the color of their skin, their ethnic background, their accent, their sexual orientation.

I apologize if this is sounding preachy. my blog isn't a place to be preachy, or judgemental or to aim opinions at anyone. These are just thoughts about the world & society and myself that have been floating around like a whirlwind in my head while reading this book, and I felt like sharing it. I am learning.

I want to be tolerant, to be loving, to be accepting. If I wish for other people to love me for me, all of me, then I can do nothing but the same for others. This book has just been affirming that to me. and I think it is a beautiful story. This excerpt, from page 234, is one of my most favorite parts. If you're looking for an excellent read, pick up this book (I bought it for $7, free shipping from here)


*background - Mae Mobley is a 3 year old white girl, Aibee (Aibileen) is her black maid. myrlie evers who is mentioned in this excerpt, has just had her husband shot & killed by the kkk*


"I don't feel good. My froat hurts, Aibee."
I know what a froat is and I know how to fix it. Baby Girl getting a summer cold. I heat her up a cup a honey water, little lemon in it to make it good. But what this girl really needs is a story so she can go to sleep. I lift her up in my arms. Law, she getting big. Gone be three years old in a few months, and pudgy as a punkin.
Ever afternoon, me and Baby Girl set in the rocking chair before her nap. Ever afternoon, I tell her: 'You kind, you smart, you important' But she growing up and I know, soon, them few words ain't gone be enough.
"Aibee? Read me a story?"
I look through the books to see what I'm on read to her. I can't read that Curious George one more time cause she don't want to hear it. Or Chicken Little or Madeline neither.
So we just rock in the chair awhile. Mae Mobley lean her head against my uniform. We watch the rain dripping on the water left in the green plastic pool. I say a prayer for Myrlie Evers, wishing I'd had work off to go to the funeral. I think on how her ten-year-old son, somebody told me, had cried so quiet through the whole thing. I rock and pray, feeling so sad, I don't know, something just come over me. The words just come out.
"Once upon a time they was two little girls," I say. "One girl had black skin, one girl had white."
Mae Mobley look up at me. She listening.
"Little colored girl say to the little white girl, 'How come your skin be so pale?' White girl say, 'I don't know. How come your skin be so black? What you think that mean?'
"But neither one a them little girls knew. So little white girl say, 'Well, let's see. You got hair, I got hair.'" I gives Mae Mobley a little tousle on her head.
"Little colored girl say, 'I got a nose, you got a nose.'" I gives her little snout a tweak. She got to reach up and do the same to me.
"Little white girl say, 'I got toes, you got toes.' And I do the little thing with her toes, but she can't get to mine cause I got my white work shoes on.
"So we's the same. Just a different color,' say that little colored girl. The little white girl she agreed and they was friends. The End."
Baby Girl just look at me. Law, that was a sorry story if I ever heard one. Wasn't even no plot to it. But Mae Mobley, she smile and say, "Tell it again."
So I do. By the fourth time, she's asleep.