My brain is wired in such a way that to finish something without starting something else would be a strange phenomenon. It also cannot get engulfed in one belief, it must ponder the differences in thoughts is humans share.
“Before humans ate the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, we lived in truth…We lived in love without any fear. After we ate the fruit, we felt guilt and shame. We judged ourselves as no longer good enough, and of course we judged others the same way.”
I am generally a lover. Accepting, loving and even a little caring. I also work mostly with children. Children are easy to love. They have an excuse for their misguided behavior and have room for growth. I dare say it might be well of me to think that of everyone rather than judge.
This weekend, my son had basketball and if youth sports doesn’t bring out the best in everyone, I don’t know what does. I have found a great anger towards middle class, white, big, burly, rural/suburban men who know everything. I know I am stereotyping and I don’t care because this seems to be the guy who is always yelling at everyone in youth sports. They yell at the kids, the refs, the other teams coach, and the organizer of the event, usually in that order, if their perfect team isn’t winning. I will never understand this.
My son happens to play for a black man who also tends to get angry and yell, but in a different way and for a different purpose. He seems to have a passion for the sport and a passion for the youth he is mentoring. His anger tends to flow more heavily when the boys are not playing to their potential, when they are beating themselves up and getting down in the dumps or when they are being treated unfairly.
Middle class white guy would probably say the same. That’s a realization I recently made. After my son and I dumped on “eyebrows” after the game. “Eyebrows” is probably coach’s kid. He ended up with four fouls before the first half with the coach repeatedly asking the guy doing the books, “Are you sure?”
I could have spoke for him, “Yes, number 31, the one with the eyebrows who constantly pushes in a sneaky way, gets caught and then cries. Yes, he has four fouls. It is not a mistake. Go ahead and ask me again.”
But my husband was doing the books and that’s why I love him. He was calm. He was cool. Even when he asked for the fourth time. Still he was shocked when “eyebrows” fouled out.
This is why I need to read. This is why I need church. Because I realized I was duped into another us against them scenario. I’m grateful it was in the area of youth sports and I’m grateful I didn’t scream across the court to both “eyebrows” and middle class coach. I have grown a lot. But I have a long way to go.
“Eyebrows” is a child. He has a lot of learning to go and if I judge him now, what kind of person am I? I do not judge the young man who plays for “my” team who has anger issues. I recognize the growth he has made from the beginning. Maybe he has grown too.
The same is true of the coach. Just because he appears to be a 40 something man, doesn’t mean he’s made it to maturity. We as a society placed adulthood where it doesn’t belong. In the realm of possibilities in a lifetime of lives, in the world of spirituality and closeness to the source, he is a child. Shame on me for judging.
Yet, there I go again. Shaming and judging myself. I am also a child with much growth to be had. I wish the best for middle class white coach, for eyebrows, and for myself. We all showed our immaturity. We are in this together.