There is an old Ron, and an even older Ron. Yes the literal getting older, a few more wrinkles, slower, but also differently a mindset. Much of what I have written about injustice is angry and pitiful. I have chosen to buy into being discriminated, to isolate, to bare pride, and to suffer. Yes like the Buddhist describe I am the creator of my suffering.
Each post, after returning from my writing hiatus, was a deliberate demonstration of the progression of how I have dealt with the discriminant. There has been anger, then resentment, fear, and intrigue. I think I am ready to realize that I am capable of seeing beyond my self serving perspectives. I am ready to live without the fear of being discriminated. I can recognize that discrimination will live on but maybe within others. I am learning to move along side its current. Maybe it is like surfing the wave of fear.
I have a opened an eye for my light skinned brothers and sisters. I understand that there is a huge barrier between the generational reconciliation. There are too many episodes that have caused so many people to fear each other. I can't convince the white community that brown people aren't dangerous or menacing. The reality is that some of us are. I can't convince my fellow melanin rich companions to keep calm and forgive. Death and extermination of futures is painful. The beauty is that each of us is capable of tenderness. It isn't my responsibility to create that in people, but it is my passion.
The anger I have inside is leaving my body with every hike in solitude, every stretch of my limbs during a climb, with every flinch of my injuries, and with the comfort from the healed cracks in my heart. The sorrow I often tap into for fuel and pity isn't serving a purpose as much. I accept that we are all finding our peace and safety. I ask myself, afraid, worried about who I am leaving behind, scared to be gentle, uncertain about being vulnerable, if I have found a way to really love. Has my embrace of my discriminator helped me to embrace the most pitiful part of myself.
It seems innate to discriminate. The ultimate discrimination was taught to me early on. As a Catholic it was ingrained into my psychology. If you are bad you won't get into heaven. Shaming myself has been a lesson as long as I can remember. In an effort to see that I cannot be any less prejudice than the next person I had to put myself under criticism. I have to own my prejudice and ignorance. What better way to understand discrimination than to observe and describe my own.
So I feel convinced that I can't eliminate my need to discriminate, but I have a responsibility to curiously deepen my understanding of what motivates me to discriminate. The discriminator is the judgmental side of myself. The judgmental part of me is critical to my survival and safety. In community often my safety is felt through acceptance, rejection, or threat. It stems from a primal understanding of who is safe. This seems to become more complex and shared with life experiences in many cultures.
I feel comfortable around smiling faces. I feel threatened around police or people in suits. I feel hypersensitive around Caucasian, clean shaven, and demeaning. I feel trusting of old Latina women. I am hesitant around Chicano men. I am most comfortable in culturally diverse, liberal and educated communities. I seek out principled people who think paradoxically before thinking they have an answer. I am steering away from competitors. I am drawn to people who are not afraid to feel life and confront stigmas. I am attracted and desire a modest women. I fear the religious, the evangelizing, wealthy, the glamorous, the blindly patriotic, and elitist or anyone who has a best. There are plenty more discriminating baselines but this provides enough to make my point.
I don't expect to see a world without discrimination. I think discrimination is useful. I look within and see that my discriminator is actually a very protective part of me. It is the part of me that reminds me of damages done. It also reminds me of embarrassments still left to atone or the karma to be returned, helping me to put off accountability. It teaches me about how I come to conclusions. It teaches me how to be more mature with my stereotypes. It guides me to my concepts of enemy. It brings about my defenses, the reactive responses to distance myself or cry out. It causes me to hate where curiosity could be better used. I may not be able to see a world without discrimination, but I do expect to see myself with less discriminant perceptions.
Discrimination isn't measurable, but it impacts and is alive in the minds of every person who has not looked into their fears. This is not to say that hate is a fantasy either. I am just right now able to accept that I have been loved by more cultures and types of people than I have been hated by. So I grow deeper in love and leave another Ron behind. The advocate in me grows stronger, humbler, safer, more accepting, wiser, joyful, slow to anger, and still passionate.
But as I am growing and maturing into what I believe is my true self, I have fewer regrets and a graceful shame. I can't dismiss my discriminator, I only felt like describing it. I finally see how it is neither good nor bad but maybe that trait that is awkward in public, often misunderstood, and compelled by great intentions.
I find that preference is a warm cousin to discrimination. That is next on my mind. Today I am still learning to love, better at it than ever, trying to be diplomatic, and trying to heal my racist. Another Ron to say good bye to and cherish.
