What Fans Our Worst Nature?

This evening I went to the movie "Trumbo" with a friend. The picture relates the experience of Hollywood screenwriter Dalton Trumbo, who is credited with Oscar-winning films such as "Roman Holiday," "Spartacus," The Brave One," and "Exodus." 

The only problem is that, because of the political affiliations of Trumbo and other Hollywood screenwriters at the time of Senator Joe McCarthy's "commie witch hunt" in the 1950s, Trumbo only received credit for his work long after it received the awards and, in the case of "Roman Holiday," not at all. Instead, he went to prison as did another of his Hollywood writer colleagues for association guaranteed in our U.S. Constitution. In newsreels from the time, angry and violent mobs berated this film genius, and he and his home were even attacked. As part of the "Hollywood 10," as the writers were known, they and others were blacklisted and unable to work, sometimes for 10-15 years. What an ugly chapter in our history.  

The other problem, though, is that this episode wasn't the only period in our history when the activity or beliefs of U.S. citizens have been the object of demagoguery.  Only a few days earlier I'd been speaking to someone about a friend of mine from Oregon, who was Japanese-American.  During World War II, her family was robbed of the land they had farmed in the U.S. for four generations.  Instead, this family of multi-generations of U.S. citizens were sent to a concentration camp.

American ugliness toward those who are different is not a 20th or 21st Century phenomena. When my Irish ancestors and many like them came to the U.S. in the early 19th Century they were jeered and were the object of degrading political cartoons and slurs.  They were referred to as "white negroes" at a time when slavery still existed in this country and they were often depicted in the cartoons with apelike features. None of this is pretty in a country that is credited with bringing democracy to a large scale, national power.

I fear that we are on the verge of yet another such ugly chapter as demagogues threaten to throw Muslims from our country or confiscate or damage the property of many who have been in this country for generations and/or are loyal U.S. citizens. Because they choose to exercise their right to choose their faith, a right guaranteed in our Constitution, they are threatened. This even after the yet again, hard-won guarantee of rights in the Civil Rights Act. Have we learned nothing from the earlier chapters?   
                                                        

I quoted columnist Tom Ehrich from his column "On the Journey" in my unpublished book Choice Point.  "As Hannah Arent wrote in her disturbing study of Nazi German, that evil empire could only proceed if evil became banal, or common.  For something obviously wrong to proceed, multiple consciences must stop working. Entire communities must grow numb and choose not to see any connection between abusive behavior and oneself..."*

I believe in a God of love, who wants us to love and respect one another.  There were probably bad people in any of these movements but to collectively hate whole groups is an insult to God.  My heart was very heavy as I left the theatre.  It continues to be heavy.  I am troubled with Arent's words that "...multiple consciences must stop working." My conscience has not stopped working.  And, to the point with which I now wrestle, what can I do? I am unapologetic about responding to anyone who makes unjustified remarks in my presence.  

Yet I struggle with how to counter the demagoguery. I think that God will not allow us to have the conscience, the desire, and the will to do the right thing without giving us the opportunity to actually do something. My prayers and meditations have not delivered any billboards telling me what to do, so for now, I will hold the intention and consciousness to continue to give, receive, and foster love.  I have to believe that will be enough.


*Ehrich, Tom, “On the Journey: Society’s sin is a lack of conscience, not religion,” The Herald-Sun, Durham, NC, Saturday, January 3, 1998, p. C1.

Doing My Part

An interesting week has just passed: following another eye surgery, I've holed up in a dark apartment, protecting my eye from painful light. I am someone who craves light, so this was a stretch. Furthermore, a woman of words, I could not read, and I could not write.

What was I to do? I recognized that my surgeon had done his part; now it was time for me to do mine.
I've slept a lot. I've prayed and meditated some. I've watched missed episodes of TV shows and movies. As often occurs, two themes emerged from them all. One was about timing: the Universe has it's own time schedule. The second was about knowing our part and doing it.

Knowing our part, however small, and doing that part is a concept I've addressed many times over the last 25 years. For that theme to come up this week shouldn't have been a surprise, and come up it did, over and again, perhaps most poignantly this afternoon.

Movie viewing this afternoon was the Oscar-nominated documentary, "20 Feet From Stardom," which profiles a handful of back-up singers who performed on many hit songs recorded by a wide range of groups and artists over 40 years. Although most of us couldn't name any of them, anyone who has listened to any popular music genre during those years knows their contributions.

Few have broken into their own stardom, notably Sheryl Crowe and Darlene Love. Their talent is a different one: support and blending is what the stars and producers for whom they performed described. That is a unique contribution to that of the lead singer.

Most of us can think of a number of people in our lives who support us in accomplishing our own roles. Similarly, we should probably be able to think of others for whom we have provided support. Each role is important, and knowing what role we are to play at any time, and performing it flawlessly, defines our success.

A play I saw last week featured half a dozen roles that most of the audience will recall. Yet, those actors comprised only a quarter of the cast. Without the whole cast, the performance would have been shallow and lacking the depth of the message the play was to deliver.

An orchestra which features only first-chair performers is no longer an orchestra: it is a quintet or ensemble. Without second and third-chair musicians and rhythm instruments, the richness of the symphony is erased. Those supporting parts add complexity and fullness.

Oscar season is upon us. A handful of stars will be recognized for spectacular performances, but without dozens of people who support them in getting to the screen, we may never have noticed.

Olympic season has just passed, and for each medal performance there are many others who supported getting the medalist to the platform.

Whether I am performing my role as either a coach or an organization development consultant, my role is a supporting one through which leaders and teams perform more perfectly because of what should be my almost-invisible role. There are times when the trainers get accolades (at performance and rewards season especially,) and my contribution is looked over, that I wish someone would notice what I had done. But that is not my role. My role is to help others succeed and look good.

Each and every role is important. Without each and every one of them working together to create a seamless whole, all others would be less effective.

I would like to think that the world could be a more loving place, and I wonder if each of us is playing our part, however small it may be. There is something magical in how things come together when we are pulling together to the same end. If all if us pull together, could something as daunting as world peace really be achievable? I'd like to think so, but I suspect that there are a lot more supporting roles to be performed to make it happen. If we can pull together to produce a symphony, a pop recording, a play, or an Olympic performance, why not work together for peace? We may not have center stage in global affairs but each of us can play a supporting role in our families, our communities, and in our nations.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Pieces of the Whole

I always look forward to my holiday greeting from colleague Suzan Thompson.  I always enjoy seeing what new directions her work as a therapist has taken in the last year.  However, because she is a fabulous and generous artist, her greetings often contain a small piece of art.  I had a favorite on my refrigerator door for several years.

Yesterday was the big day, and I admit to ripping the envelope open in the elevator the minute I saw the return address.  (I suppose it might have been more appropriate to wait until I could fully appreciate the opening experience, but delayed gratification has never been one of my strong suits.) 

This year's gift was different than the individual pieces in the past.  This year she created an incredible collage, called "Pieces For You."  Then, she cut it up and sent pieces to her friends, along with a link to her blog where we could see the whole artwork*.  I've inserted it below.

 

 

I loved the piece, but I have to confess to studying to see which piece of the whole I had received.  (My piece came from the bottom right, and it included the heron and a key.) We emailed back and forth, and I said I loved being able to find where my piece was in the whole, and I added, "...if we only knew exactly where our piece was in the Whole."  The truth of that statement stuck with me. 

 

If we could only know exactly where our piece was in the Whole, what difference would it make?  When I think of Suzan's lovely collage as a metaphor for our roles in the world, I can imagine that when one of us decides not to follow our intuition or chooses to take a job that was more money than the one for which we had passion, that there might be blank rectangles where our piece should have been.  If many of us don't do our part pretty soon the beauty of the whole canvas is obscured. 

 

This Aha! moment hit me particularly hard on a weekend in which I have gotten back to serious writing for the first time in a while.  I'd hate to think that in the greater scheme of things that my busyness with other things has removed an essential component(s) from the Whole.  Yet, I know that is true.  The Universe isn't designed with extra or disposable parts.  Each of us is essential, and we all make a difference. 

 

In the future I plan to use Suzan's collage with my piece missing as a mental image of what happens when I choose not to show up for Life.  I can't imagine her artwork with a missing piece, just as I'm sure the Universe can't imagine Life without my piece.

 

 

*For more details about the collage and appropriate viewing music, you may visit Suzan's blog at http://magicwonderandmiracles.blogspot.com/.