A Commitment to Learning

Right now is full-moon-time, a time when we can choose to intentionally release what is not serving our highest selves, and by extension, what is not serving the world.

My wish: To release the fear of making mistakes and being misunderstood. When I hold this fear of judgement, it keeps me from learning, and keeps me from speaking. 

Last week was once of the most intense weeks in my memory, as protests continued against police violence and murder of black people. Along with the protests came a flood of information through the news and social media channels: what is happening, how to help, how to learn, how not to harm as we learn.

I read and read. I listened to podcasts with important of-the-moment conversations. I followed new social media accounts and began taking in new-to-me voices and perspectives. I donated money and signed petitions. All the while, I’m thinking, absorbing... trying to absorb as much as I can, as fast as I can about anti-racism and how to start “doing the work.” What I noticed at the end of the week was how exhausted I felt, and how “in a hurry” I was. I feel that when it comes to actively being anti-racist, I am late to the party and have a lot of catching up to do. This is accurate. 

As I read and listen to the voices of black teachers and of white teachers who are further along than me in their anti-racism learning, I hear instructions that at first seem to conflict with each other and to confuse me. “Don’t be silent. Silence is complicity.” And “Please, be quiet. White voices have been heard enough, and now is a time for white allies to listen and learn.” I hear, “Read. Learn. Watch. Take in all the information that you can. There are so many resources available to help broaden your perspective.” I hear, “Don’t just read books. Don’t just make this about “thinking.” FEEL and DO. Pay attention to your heart and let it move you to action.”

And I’ve been feeling so much fear and uncertainty about how to participate and engage without accidentally doing something wrong and causing harm. The part of me that likes order and quiet feels overwhelmed by information and feelings, and almost wants to hide. Or wants to beg, “Please, someone just tell me what to do. Make this EASY for me!”

It is NOT easy. It is not going to be easy, and it should not be easy. All important change takes time, and all new ways of being take practice. I know this to be true. And each of those instructions: Don’t be silent. Do listen and reconsider how much you need to hear your own voice. Do read and learn. Don’t let that be where it ends. All of these messages are true at the same time, and it takes effort, care, and wisdom to discern in each moment to navigate a path of learning and action.

And while my wish— to participate and engage without accidentally doing something wrong and causing harm— is a kind and sincere wish... holding the fear of making mistakes and being misunderstood, I run the risk of not engaging at all. The wish to do just the exact right thing can prevent me from starting somewhere, now.

So here is where I sit: I am sensing this fear, bringing compassion to my fearful self, and releasing the fear in service of growing compassion for all beings. In place of fear, I am cultivating openness and courage. I want to have conversations that will be new and uncomfortable and real. I want to listen, listen, listen, especially when I hear something that offends me or makes me reconsider my ways of thinking. I want to see clearly and do better, not just now, but from now on.

Katie Dutcher