Neighbor, A Handbook: 1 What’s a Neighbor Anyway? and The Heroes Who Teach Us
I wish for our country and world to come together, I believe in the power of light, and I am forever an optimist that Love will prevail. I have seen people who live this way, and they are who I do my best to return to as guides, over and over again. We need one another in this journey to come together.
After reading the intro, a friend said, Amy, what the heck do you mean by Neighbor? So.
In my childhood, the first instruction I received about being a Neighbor were words from a man whose two biggest messages were to love Love and to love your neighbor as yourself. He didn’t only say “Love your neighbor,” he modeled how to do it by breaking all rules and crossing all borders to talk with and eat with and heal and love everyone. Everyone. For him the world was his Neighborhood. This man is still worshiped and/or honored as a prophet by over 68% of our nation (Pew), so I’m sure most of us have heard of him. These words call out that we’re all in this together. In Love. All of us, the familiar and unfamiliar, the comfortable and the uncomfortable, the liked and disliked.
This teaching was the foundation of my spiritual upbringing, and as hard as it is to follow sometimes, it was my first guide, and remains my foundation, in being a Neighbor.
A Neighbor believes every human equally deserves dignity, fundamental rights, and to be treated with respect. The head of my old school would say in his yearly opening remarks: None of you are special. But I rephrase it: We are all special. We are all special and none of us is more or less special than the next. None.
The Ground from which we spring.
I once heard a talk by a Japanese Buddhist monk from the Shinran Shonin tradition who described each religion as a branch on a tree. As he talked, he drew several big trees on a white board. Then on one tree, he drew big branches, each to represent one of what I believe he referred to as the Abrahamic religions like Islam, Judaism, Christianity. Then, from each major branch, he drew smaller branches to represent different ways in which that religion has developed (like Sunni, Shia, Reform, Orthodox, Conservative, Baptist, UCC, Catholic, etc.). He drew at least two more trees, their branches, and so on, to represent the “Indian traditions” and the “Irreligions.” Now this talk was twenty years ago, and as my memory doesn’t serve me, I apologize for not getting specific and broad enough in terms of branches, sub branches, and even trees. But his point was not about Buddhism, Hinduism, Janeism, Atheism, or any specific tree or its limbs. His point came after the trees were on the board — because it was then he drew the ground from which they grew.
What’s really important, he said, stepping back to show the whole picture, is to notice that all of the trees are rooted in the same soil. That soil, he said, is what matters most of all. Some call it Greater Consciousness, some Allah, some God, etc, but regardless of what we each call it, his point was that one soil is the source that feeds and supports every single tree. We all grow from the same foundation.
And that’s it in a nutshell. The heart of what it means to be a Neighbor is to continually do the work to see and respect and know all people as children who spring from the same source of vast Love.
In this work we need guides.
One of the things I ask in the classroom is Who are your heroes? I don’t know about you, but when I was young (and walked five miles uphill both ways to school) we had heroes, and we chose them because they were people of character. Interestingly, it seemed that many of my students hadn’t been asked this before. It’s a question they met with a blank look. Come on, people, I’d say, we all need heroes. Silence. They’re our moral role models when times get tough. More silence. But, ha, I’ve learned to wait.
My mom? one would finally offer. My Dad, another would say. My dad was and is my hero, too; Great, I’d say, and how about outside your family? Another loooooooonger silence. Inevitably, Steph Curry! And, then we’d laugh because ok, as Bay Area basketball fans, we did like Steph Curry. But with all due respect to Steph Curry, was he the only hero my entire classroom had?
Perhaps the concept of values-based heroes has disappeared because our national priorities have shifted. Often the people we hold up today for public adoration are those who’ve gained fame, power, and/or have a ton of money. They tackle the hardest, form the largest companies, drive the best cars, have the most social influence, in essence, outshine those around them. And, while a few of these new public heroes do live in ways that represent at least some of our core values — let’s be honest — often they do not. I’ve even heard it said that their less than moral actions are ok because “Hey, when you’ve done X, you’ve earned the right to do what you want.” It’s really a fundamental shift in what traits we hold to be most important in a human being.
It’s also a shift that doesn’t fit being a neighbor. To that end, the definition for “hero” I share with my students is a hero is a person who lives a life that reflects what you or I feel is a very best version of what it means to be human.
To be a Neighbor, we don’t have to be rich or influential, we simply have to be willing to respect one another, to see one another with the larger eyes of Love.
This is where the hero comes in. To do the kind of important and vulnerable work we’re talking about here, I believe having a personal hero (or five) who reflects the core person we’d like to be is critical for inspiration and support.
We pick a hero who lives as a Neighbor because their life shows us what it’s like to live bravely and from the heart. They’re a touchstone when things get dark. Through the example of their own lives, they help us remember who we want to be, know that it does exist in human form the world, and then move forward bravely again. We need them.
I suggest you pause now and consider who yours are. If you have none, that’s ok. But don’t stop there. Let the question linger as you continue to read.
One of my Neighbor heroes
Bryan Stevenson is not only one of my all around heroes, he’s an excellent guide in learning to be a Neighbor. I can get a little gooshy about my heroes, so be warned. Among so many accomplishments, Stevenson is a lawyer who’s dedicated his life to fight injustice and right the wrongs of history. He founded the Equal Justice Initiative, wrote a book called Just Mercy, and spends his days and nights representing the underrepresented on death row, from children to the mentally disabled to the wrongly accused. Stevenson’s life reflects the teachings I referenced earlier. Not the stuff written a hundred or more years later when people were trying to set up a new religion, but the actual everyday eat with everyone, Sermon on the Mount teachings. Stevenson’s work centers around “the poor, the neglected, the abused, the excluded, the marginalized,” and it is the illustration of being a Neighbor (1). I was lucky enough to hear him speak twice at education conferences, and he’s perhaps the best speaker I’ve ever heard. If you’re like me, when you hear him you’ll be humbled, quieted, and inspired by his words.
Bryan Stevenson has four guidelines for changing the world that I’ve personally found instrumental in being a Neighbor. In no way do I mean to appropriate or claim his guidelines as my own, but their wisdom is greater than I could invent myself so I’m sharing them with you here. I urge you to go online and listen to Stevenson himself, as I cannot come even close to doing them justice in the way he does and the work he does matters to us all.
Please know that the quoted words below are his, and the words written through the lens of being a Neighbor are mine, with full bow to him and apologies if I ever take too much license with his message. Here are Bryan Stevenson’s four guidelines for changing the world:
“Get proximate.”
Getting proximate means to get close, to be near. In Stevenson’s work, he’s most of all asking us to get proximate to “the poor, the neglected, the abused, the excluded, the marginalized.” In being a Neighbor, we need to get proximate to everyone we’re currently separated from, especially the people we regard as different in some way. We cannot be Neighbors from afar. We cannot know one another by keeping a ‘safe’ distance. Getting proximate means to be open, in the way my students are open with one another. Learning the language we need to speak with one another, to learn another’s story, see their strengths and weaknesses, understand their impact on us and our impact on them, and travel side by side in our shared humanity–no matter how different we seem.
As Stevenson said, “it’s in proximity … that we hear things that we will not otherwise hear; we will see things that we will not otherwise see.” Being close will show us the world in ways we haven’t seen before. Being close breaks down stereotypes. For example, I volunteer with a woman who on paper would be a lot of things I have easy opinions about. But in working side by side, I learn from the heart and so see her as much more and my opinions as too easy. Being close makes us human to one another. It’s the closest we can come to walking a mile in another person’s shoes. This guideline presents a personal challenge if our current community looks like us and votes like us and worships like us. And if what we read, listen to, watch, is about and by people like us. This challenge is up to us to accept.
“Change the narrative.”
A narrative is a story, and the stories that make up our world matter. As a neighbor, we need to change the stories that make it easy for us to stay divided. But first we must see them. We can’t change the narrative until we see the stories we tell, see the stories we hear, see the stories we’re drawn to, see the stories that support the way we’re living in the world.
The stories we need to change are those that make it easy to:
*stay far from people who are different
*feel that people deserve the hardships or challenges they face
*see people as deserving of our distance
*see people as bad or foolish or ignorant or less or evil
You get the picture.
When any story like this pops up, stop. Notice. Ask, how might this story be told differently? How might I think about it differently? How might it be wrong? How might it be more? What haven’t I asked? Is it accurate?
The stories that keep us safe from getting close to people who we’re not Neighbors with are convenient, but they are not true. Is there truth in them? There’s truth in almost everything. That’s what makes life complex and complicated. But partial truth does not make our story true. Nor does it make our story necessary. In doing the work of being a Neighbor, it’s critical to change both the negative stories we hear and the ones that come out of our mouths and minds.
In telling a story differently, the language we use makes a ton of difference. Again there are questions to ask. What language do we use to refer to other people? Is it hurtful? (I’m not asking if it hurts us, or if we think it shouldn’t be hurtful, I’m asking if we think other people would feel hurt or offended by our choice of words) Are we using lump terms like MEN, WOMEN, ANY RACE, LIBERALS, CONSERVATIVES, etc? If so, lump terms are not helpful. So, we need to ask, are there other ways of speaking we can choose? I AM SURE THERE ARE. Use them. The way we choose to speak about other people is key in changing the narrative.
“Stay hopeful.”
Though Stevenson talks about this in a different and very important way in terms of the work he’s doing in the world, when it comes to being a Neighbor, I see this instruction as equally important. No matter the hate and anger we see in the world, in general or directed at us, we can’t give up. Our work helps.
And no matter the personal learning that keeps coming, and the things we discover and experience that are hard to deal with, it’s critical to keep alive the hope that our own growth as humans is not only something we can handle but the life force of a healthy Neighborhood.
“Learn to be uncomfortable.”
This is my favorite. Not because I like the feeling of being uncomfortable, I hate it, but because Stevenson provides some comfort by naming that this is part of the process. If we’re doing this work, at times it will be uncomfortable.
The world is changing. If we’re honest with ourselves, it’s always changing. That’s just how it is. Can any of us remember an older person saying, Kids these days. It’s a forever repeating cycle, each generation, and each generation has had to decide between closing their eyes and talking about the good old days or opening them and trying to live in the world as it is now.
One of my favorite quotes is from the filmmaker Kurosawa, who said, “Being an artist means never to avert your eyes.” To avert our eyes means to look away, to choose not to see. This isn’t only an idea that helps me write, it helps me live. We don’t avert our eyes from the easy or beautiful. Why would we? We look away because we’re uncomfortable: sad, angry, scared, despairing, etc. We all hate this feeling. The worst version of it is when we’re uncomfortable about ourselves.
But here’s the thing. If we see something about the world or ourselves we didn’t know before, or don’t like, covering it up doesn’t make it go away. Something intentionally kept in the dark turns dark. Instead, I share what the youth have taught me: there is simply nothing to be lost by being open that we cannot live without.
I have a whole section on Comfort coming up, so I’ll stop here. But if you get uncomfortable, you can now say, Bryan Stevenson would say this means I’m showing up to do the work, and then start again. It’s one of the reasons I suggest we find our heroes. Whether or not he actually would say this, it’s nice to imagine that our hero would be nodding at us in recognition that we’re doing our work to grow.
In the interest of the Neighborhood
When we think of neighborhoods in the U.S., they begin usually with the family and then widen to the few neighbors around us, then the whole neighborhood, then the town, then the county, then the state, the nation, and finally the world.
It may be a new idea to consider the world as your neighborhood. But it is. Consider the dangerous impact a tsunami in Japan has on the west coast of the United States. Consider the worldwide fallout of one nuclear reactor malfunctioning. Look at an illness that begins in one town and then boards an airplane. Recall how only three gas companies slowed distribution and made gas really expensive for everyone everywhere, or how after one country invaded another, the resulting destruction to the farmers and their farmland caused wheat supplies to become limited all over the world.
Our connection to one another travels far beyond what we can see.
There’s an old saying that the flutter of a butterfly’s wing is felt halfway around the world. It came from Edward Lorenz, a mathematician and meteorologist. In his study of the development of significant weather, his models showed that a small action, or set of actions like a seagull flapping its wings, began a series of events that could grow to something as huge as a tornado. He substituted the word butterfly for seagull because it sounded more poetic, but his point was that an action so small we would never notice it could grow to have an impact we would never forget.
Imagine what fearing and hating other people do to the world if the flap of a seagull’s wing can create a tornado? Imagine what storm the angry, finger-pointing things we say can cause in the world and our own homes? We’re in a time of division, in our families, our country and our world. I assume that you’ve moved on to this first chapter at least partly because this division troubles you, perhaps it breaks your heart, and you want to find a way to participate in bringing us together. So, as if we need one more reason to do this work, here’s how I’ll close.
The call of our kids
What my students and my own children most long for is a world in which we can all live, freely and equally and as our true selves. Every question and thought and fear and even anger they bring me is in search of that world, even when I have to look closely to understand how. They want to understand how things got to be the way they are, but even more they want things to heal because they want the world to love.
Imagine what today’s anger is doing to our children. Just as I saw in my own students, all of our children and young people are growing up having to listen to anger and fear: it’s coming from us, our TVs and radios, our friends, our leaders, social media and goodness knows where else. Imagine what this “flutter” does to them?
Where is the message of hope? Proximity? Love?
Just yesterday, one of our national leaders called for public violence if a legal action he doesn’t like takes place. Violence called for by an elected official of our government. American on American. Our own children don’t see us addressing the violence and destruction already happening in our nation, instead they see how, when we don’t get our way, we do the very things that bring on more. Parents always say they’d jump in front of a bus to save their children. But people, I’d suggest we are the very ones driving the bus, or at least sitting quietly on it.
A friend is president of her local synagogue, a large, vibrant, growing community in New Jersey. Recently she shared with me that their Director of Education said he’s never seen as many children with mental health crises or psychological issues as he has in the past three years. Anxiety, depression, eating disorders… and he said that these issues would not be immediately evident because the children appear healthy from the outside.
This situation is not localized to a synagogue in New Jersey. Teachers and health professionals and parents all over the country are saying that our children are suffering in this way. Mental illness, drugs, crime, acts of anger.
In my friend’s synagogue, their guiding principle is B’tzelem Elohim — Made in God’s Image. Their foundation of being a Neighbor is being built as they actively live the belief that everyone is made in God’s image, just the way they are.
It’s up to each of us to change the narrative in this way. To hope, yes, and to act as well. For our children, yes, and for ourselves. Put on your own mask first if you want to be a help to anyone else, as they say on the airlines.
So, see you next week or so. If you want to be notified when the next chapter is released, follow me on Medium and click the box for email notifications. In the meantime, gather your heroes, look at the folks who make up your community (as well as your reading/listening/viewing material), notice the stories you gather and tell, examine your language. Hope. And remember, it’s ok to be uncomfortable.
- All Bryan Stevenson ideas and quotes were taken from https://qcitymetro.com/2020/01/29/bryan-stevenson-4-steps-to-change-the-world/
