Still I Rise

Out of the huts of history's shame

I rise

Up from a past that's rooted in pain

I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.”

― Maya Angelou

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I am a white guy in America

I am identified with the majority religion

I was raised in relative affluence

I have had all the advantages

Perhaps I have not made the most of my advantages

Definitely I have made my mistakes

Clearly there are people who loathe me, for good reason

Obviously there are people who love me, for good reason

But I will never know

The oppression experienced by a person of color

The devaluation of a Native American

The pain of a person born LGBTQI, and thus rejected by faith and family

The despair of a person born in poverty

The minimization and marginalization experienced by women

I have little or no way to connect with all of this

I have been poor, but not in poverty

I have lost jobs, but have had the advantages to find others

There is much I do not know

But I do believe on thing

I believe in resilience

I believe that each of us has some capacity

To rise

To find within us the resilience to keep putting

One foot in front of the other

Left foot, right foot, left foot, breathe!

I believe that this capacity is inherent

I believe it is Sacred

I have no illusions that the path out poverty

Or addiction

Or pain

Or failure

Is easy

And I understand that it is harder for some, than for others

Not because of who they are

But because of systematic oppression

Because of injustice and inequity

But I do believe

That we carry within us the capacity to rise

I believe, that if we tap into that “something” within us that is Sacred

That is Love

That is Hope

That is Generosity

We can experience resurrection

We can be lifted up

Sometimes it takes a lot of help from Sacred

Sometimes it takes help from other people

Sometimes the progress is halting and sporadic

Sometimes one is knocked back down

By hate and racism, by being devalued and judged

I know that I can rise out of my petty issues

And petty failures

Out of my shallow afflictions

I also believe, or perhaps I hope

That the one in front of me, born into a world of trauma

Born into a house of addiction

Born into a race or creed marginalized and oppressed by our culture

That one living in poverty

Living with mental illness

That one carrying the sins and miseries of the world

That one shaped by tragedy and oppression

Can also rise

I also believe that inside each of us there is a presence

A light

A flame

I do not know

Always, how to tap into Sacred Presence

And find my way up

I do not know always

How to support others, as they too, seek to rise

But I do know we can rise

That this is the “job” of life

To find our way up

To find our way back to our original blessing

And to help others along the way

Call it what you will

Resilience

Resurrection

Recovery

It’s a thing

It’s real

It’s work

It’s our job

So today is another day

What am I going to do today, to find my way to higher ground?

What am I going to do today to help another to higher ground?

Perhaps they are the same thing