Ubuntu

Ubuntu is an African word that means, "I am what I am because of who we all are."

I was listening to an NRP story on Maya Angelou when I heard about this concept. The story included a recording of Maya Angelou reading her poem, "Still I Rise."

I found this NPR story to be comforting because I felt like I was on the verge of despair. Day after day, we hear about some new unqualified person that Donald Trump has appointed to his cabinet or made some important adviser and I find myself wondering: How can we put up with THIS when we could have had THAT?

There's not even a comparison for how much more qualified Hillary Clinton was and is than Donald Trump, and the irony is that the electoral college, something meant to prevent people like Donald Trump, dangerous populist demagogues, from assuming power, may be the very thing that allows him to assume it.

I find this all to be incredibly disheartening and discouraging, and I am perhaps at least as infuriated by the fact that some people want to spend this time trying to understand white racists. Um, I think I get it. You're white and your racist. You lost your job or you don't make enough money, so you blame the black people or the Mexicans. You think Donald Trump is going to wave some magic wand and bring you back to those good old days. It's not happening, and I don't think there's all that much to understand.

Instead of trying to understand racism (I think we call it sin in theological terms), I want to understand the things about the world I do not know, read the books I have not read--learn about jazz and blues and read The Autobiography of Malcolm X, learn about Mexican history.

There's so much about the world I don't know, like the names of all the providences in Canada or what all the rivers in Africa look like. I'd rather learn about that than about all the shades of hate and resentment.

The Blue Nile River pictured below:


We all have a lot to learn, but I think we all know how populists rise. What we need to counter it is not to learn what makes people hate but what makes them love.

Hard Candy Christmas

I got an early Christmas present from my husband, the new Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood Christmas cd "Christmas Together."

Some of the songs are traditional--"Baby, it's Cold Outside," "Feliz Navidad"-- and some are non-traditional or new.

But my favorite song on the album is "Hard Candy Christmas," which had been previously recorded by Dolly Parton in 1982.

The lyrics begin:

Hey, maybe I'll dye my hair
Maybe I'll move somewhere
Maybe I'll get a car

Maybe I'll drive so far
That I'll lose track
Me, I'll bounce right back
Maybe I'll sleep real late

Maybe I'll lose some weight
Maybe I'll clear my junk
Maybe I'll just get drunk on apple wine
Me, I'll be just

Fine and dandy
Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas
I'm barely getting through tomorrow
But still I won't let
Sorrow bring me way down

 

Those lyrics feel oddly appropriate for this political moment. At one point, I was so angry, I wasn't sure I would celebrate this Christmas. But I have kids, and they would be deeply disappointed if Santa didn't show up because Mommy's political candidate didn't win.

 

Of course, it's not just about that, one person, but the direction that we want this country to go in or not go in.

 

I want this country to be a place that not just tolerates immigrants, but welcomes them. A place that doesn't fear science and the inconvenience of hard truths but embraces these truths. Yes, climate change is scary, but we can't pretend it's not happening. Avoidance never solved any problems. It only exacerbates them.

 

Still, this year, like every year, we decorated the tree. I turned the Christmas music on. And then I found this song, which I don't remember from 1982 because I was very young then. I do remember sometimes watching Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton specials. I think, but I can't be sure that there was one called Christmas in July.

 

Years later, alone, doing an internship during college, I spent my first Thanksgiving away from my mom and dad in Pittsburgh. I shared the day with a cousin and some of her other family. Instead of pumpkin, we ate Key Lime Pie.

 

This year, we got a real tree again for the first time in a long while. We took the netting off and let the branches fall, the smell of citrus filling the room.

 

I'm a religious person, so I try to find some deeper meaning in all of this. Maybe this:

 

 

 

Or this:

 

 

Or maybe just this:

 

"Me, I'll be just

Fine and dandy
Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas
I'm barely getting through tomorrow
But still I won't let
Sorrow bring me way down"

 

While I fear the worst and hope for the best, there is a comfort in Christmas music, familiar and new, and a comfort in sharing new traditions with my own family.

 

#StrongerTogether