Week 10: Practice Makes More Perfect

[alycewilson]

This is my entry for this week of @therealljidol. The topic is "All the Fixins."

A snow-bright day outside the glass door, I worked on a transcription file with my headphones on only one ear. As a work-at-home mom since way before the pandemic, I've adopted that work-around to keep aware of sounds in the room, as well as in the audio on my headset. On this day, my son was working from home, too.

As a newscaster droned in my left ear, in my right, I became aware of the conversation on my son's class session, held via video conference. His teacher was talking to them about trying to do the right thing but also being open to learning. The lesson was part of Black History Month, and she fielded the kids' questions about how to know when what they're doing and saying might feel bad to the other person.

Patiently, she advised them that they should let other people know when someone says or does something that makes them feel bad, and that they should remain open to whatever they might hear from someone else. All that was required, she said, was to do your best to treat people right, and to learn from your mistakes.

As she spoke, she displayed this Maya Angelou quote on her shared screen: "Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better."

My heart swelling three sizes, I shared an abbreviated version of what I'd witnessed via social media. Lots of friends found the conversation as heartwarming as I did, and a teacher friend said she'd been inspired to do something similar in her own class.

This lesson in compassion and kindness reminded me of the best advice I've received from another parent. When my son was a toddler, and her own son was in elementary school, she advised me to let my son know early that mistakes were not only expected but even necessary. We have to practice to get better, she recommended I tell him. Nobody's perfect the first time they try something.

In my experience, that's certainly true, as I've written previously. Be willing to admit your mistakes, and learn from them, whether they have to do with a solving a math problem or being properly supportive of a friend or colleague.

For days, these thoughts rolled around in my head, thinking about the ways I've been corrected over the years. Some involved learning the proper way to talk about ethnicity, gender, belief, and more sociological designations: an ever-evolving process, I'll admit. For instance, I've used the term "Native American" for years, but I learned while attending a pow-pow in State College a couple years ago that the current preferred term is "native people."

Then there was my freshman college roommate, who with exasperation in her voice, scolded me halfway through the first semester for never sweeping the floor or taking out the trash. I spent very little time in the room, being heavily involved in student activities, and until she said something, I'd honestly thought we had a maid.

Serendipitously, today, as I contemplated the idea of fixing what we've done wrong, I received an anonymous comment on an LJ Idol piece I wrote four years ago. The comment directly related to my thoughts; a continuation of the musings begun by my son's teacher.

The piece had been about some early discoveries I'd made in my genealogical research, many of which eventually turned out to be wholly or partially inaccurate. In one section, I wrote about a Colonel John Buchanan, who at the time I believed to be my direct ancestor, but whom I've since determined was not. At the time, I also wrongly concluded that Col. John had owned slaves, based on a slave schedule I'd discovered, which turned out to be for another John Buchanan, who lived decades later than the Col. John Buchanan in question.

The commenter pointed out this error to me, very graciously, showing me that the data doesn't match up with the documents. Then, the anonymous person went further, and I'll take the liberty of quoting them here:

I would like to point out something to you as you seem to "regret" having slave holders in your family line. Each of us has in our line of ancestors those who owned slaves, those who were slaves, those who murdered and those who risked their lives to protect the helpless. We each of us have kings and queens and peasants in our family line. However, each and every one of them persevered long enough to have progeny that ultimately brought us into this world. Each of them did so by living in the world of their time as best they could at that time.
 

In other words, the commenter reminded me that our ancestors likely made mistakes, some of them grievous, tragic, or even shameful. But as that family line continued, each new generation received a chance to try again, to set things right, to be better.

Even though I no longer believe there is evidence connecting my ancestors to slavery, I do know they were not perfect. I've had ancestors who were born out of wedlock, or who broke with their faith traditions to marry outsiders, or who failed to honor financial commitments. My husband even had an ancestor who was drummed out of the Quaker religion for wearing an extravagant waistcoat and playing fast and loose with women. I may have had ancestors guilty of darker wrongs which have been lost to history. There is no way to know exactly how many times they "broke bad," and what they might have done to fix it.

But as the commenter points out, and as my son's teacher reminds me, we can only be the best person we're capable of being at the time. Then, taking Maya Angelou's advice, we can try to do better. We can try to fix what's wrong in the world by fixing ourselves.

ETA: The voting link is up! (https://therealljidol.dreamwidth.org/1090866.html) Deadline is 8 p.m. tonight (Thursday, February 11). If you don't have a Dreamwidth account, you can login in via OpenID using accounts on various other blogging platforms (such as Livejournal).

Comments

[adoptedwriter]

I love that quote. Hugs.

[alycewilson]

Me, too. I think every kid should hear it, and every adult, too.

[gunwithoutmusic]

This was lovely, and a good reminder that, especially in the current age where everything seeks to divide us, all you can do is try your best to be a good person to other people. I personally take umbrage with the euphemism treadmill, the seemingly ever-changing terminology that society dictates we use, because of the fact that changing the word does nothing to change the sentiment. "Retarded" was considered politically correct at one point in time, but is now a "no-no" because it started to be used in a pejorative, rather than a medical, sense. And, honestly, there's just no possible way to please everyone.

As a personal example, the word "queer" has been coming up a lot more lately, as young people under the LGBT+ umbrella try to eschew specific labels and prefer to refer to themselves just as "queer" (possibly because they see their sexuality as "more complicated" than simply being called "gay" will suffice). However, I have lived through a time when I was being called "a queer" while simultaneously being physically attacked just for being gay (an unfortunate side-effect of growing up gay in the Deep South), and I would take deep offense to anyone calling me "queer." I prefer to be called "gay," thank you very much.

All of this, of course, to illustrate your point - all we can do is our best with other people and focus on our interpersonal relationships, get to really know other people and how they feel about things, and tailor our interactions accordingly. If I had a friend that told me she preferred being called "queer," I would oblige her, but I would also hope that she would oblige me in not calling me "queer," because I still view that as a slur and a personal attack.

[alycewilson]

Exactly! For my part, I always try to listen carefully to how people present themselves. And I've learned that, if you're really not sure what someone prefers, you should ask. I think the widespread prevalence now of asking people their pronouns is a good example of how that can work. A friend of mine just announced they prefer "they/them," and once they said that, a lot of things I hadn't even thought about over the years, but had observed, clicked into place. I was really grateful that they finally spoke their truth.

[murielle]

I hold firm the belief that if we cannot have and express compassion for those who are different from us (in any way) then we have failed.

Maya Angelou is one of my personal heroes. I adored her. She brought so much light into the world, she gave so much. She fed our souls. We grew on her wisdom. I'm so glad she was able to leave such a great--Great!--body of work behind so that generations to come may grow on her wisdom too.

Thank you much for sharing this! Brava! Brava!

[alycewilson]

She was a wonderful woman, as well as a wonderful writer and poet. I attended one of her readings with my mother when I was about 16. Afterwards, she was signing books and chatting briefly with everybody who came to her table. When I approached her, I handed her one of her poetry books and said, nervously, "I write poetry, too."

She responded with the most warm, resonant tone: "That's wonderful! Read everything." I've taken that to heart, and I've passed it on, as well. The more poetry you read -- the more of anything you read -- the better of a writer, and a person, you become.

[murielle]

So true!

And what a wonderful memory to treasure! <3

[flipflop_diva]

That's such a great quote. I haven't heard it in so long, but it's really so perfect and so well-said. It's definitely hard, in this day and age, to always do the right thing, when the right thing seems to be constantly changing, but all we can do is try and understand other people and their viewpoints and be compassionate and empathetic toward them, and if we do find out we are doing something hurtful to someone (intentionally or not) to change our ways to not do that.

I'm so glad your son has such a great teacher, though! I hope he took the lesson to heart as much as his mom did <3

[alycewilson]

I like to think that he did. He's always been a very compassionate kid, to the point that we couldn't watch a lot of children's movies, because too many of them have a crisis point where one of the characters is crying or afraid. He's the kind of kid who actually comforts other kids in the lunch room when he sees them upset. <3

[bleodswean]

Yep. Of course, of course.

[alycewilson]

It sounds so easy and so natural, but it can be hard to do!

[halfshellvenus]

What a thoughtful comment to get on your earlier entry! Because I do think we can forget that people make mistakes, and always will. And sadly, when the larger trend of society is doing something wrong (like owning slaves), it's a very rare person who can rise outside of their own context and realize that. Most of the time, people just don't question the status quo.

That Maya Angelou quote is wonderful, and really helpful as a guide to parenting and to simply living.

[alycewilson]

I really appreciated the fact that that person took the time to point that out. I've found that genealogists who take their work seriously do tend to acquire a perspective on history that's much more comprehensive than the rest of us. I'm getting to that point, as well. These days, I find the more negative stories simply an interesting aspect. What I've been most encouraged to learn, though, is just how many of my ancestors seem to have been willing to speak out and do what they felt was right, whether it meant following their heart in love or becoming an abolitionist.

Maya Angelou was a treasure, a literal treasure.