The Beauty of Grey

 I had this really interesting interaction this week that is still mulling around in my head.  

One of my senior colleagues was inappropriate with me a few months ago.  His behaviour would have probably been appropriate 30 years ago and I actually feel most of it was unintentional but regardless it left me in a position to report it.  And I did.  I held no ill will towards him but I felt it was my duty to call out behaviour that was not right when I had all the power and privilege to do so.  The process was convoluted and honestly a bit ridiculous but in the end he was spoken to about it.  I chose to remain anonymous in my report because my identity did not matter - the behaviour change is what mattered. 

Cut to a few months later and I am speaking with him about an entirely separate issue.  We have this beautiful interaction discussing out passion for being "shit disturbers" and the importance of history and legacy and honouring our teachers and mentors.  He signs off his email before our call with "By the way I really admire what you are doing in your practice and teaching".  And then on our call together he again says "Amanda I really admire what you are doing...I am really proud of you." It was such a beautiful phone call and I was so happy to have that time to talk to him.  It meant a lot to me.  AND I am really proud of myself for reporting the behaviour so that I was open to receiving that interaction without resentment or bitterness.  

So much of life seems black and white right now and usually the truth lies somewhere snuggled in between.  Most people are not all good or all bad.  Your teachers can do something wrong and still be so kind and meaningful in your life.  What a gift to say aloud to someone how proud you are of them.  As the snow melts this morning and all the snowhills around me turn to grey with the power of spring I am reminded of how beautiful grey really can be. 

The Problem with Persistence in Resistance

 I've had some difficulty this week with a decision that was made by leadership at work.  In response I resigned from a particular committee that I was hoping would be more than it turned out to be. 

I was asked to reconsider in an email that was very flattering about my ability to make changes and praising my knowledge and experience.  However, I do not think I will reconsider.  I have been reflecting a lot on why I am going against my usual direction of dogged persistence even in the face of systemic resistance. 

"Nevertheless she persisted" - Elizabeth Warren

I have the ability to persist indefinitely.  I've proven that along with so many of my colleagues over the course of this pandemic.  I can put my nose to the grindstone and push through almost any obstacle and continue on.  I have no doubts I could do that here - I've done it over and over - my ability is not in question.

The difference is that I think I'm starting to realize that this request is a well-crafted and very well-intentioned falsehood.  If you have a problem that needs resolution but a leadership structure or leaders that are not highly invested in change the person most invested in that change (aka me in this particular situation) will beat themselves up trying to change something that does not have the environment to be able to make that change.  It's like trying to grow a papaya in Manitoba - I could be the best gardener in the world but it just ain't going to happen.

This is quite a difficult position for me to take because I ALWAYS persist.  I have lived my whole life persisting and, looking back, I can tie some of my need for persisting to watching my dad persisting in a similar situation to the one I currently find myself in and choosing to persist (with absolutely every good intention as he always has) and it eating him up inside.  My heart this week is reminding me of that and whispering louder and louder "choose a different path"...

When I was younger our family (in the setting of real injustice that happened to my brother) was faced with some very real heartache.  This heartache was partly due to the fact that there was no process for what happened and it left everyone traumatized.  My dad was in a leadership position (but not the top leader - truthfully kind of like where I am now) and decided (again with every good intention) to help the leadership through a proper process even when it came to his own kid.  He fell on his sword and at the time it seemed noble.  It seemed righteous and honourable and my dad is all those things.  The situation my dad found himself in however was not those things.  And despite his best efforts things happened in a way that was gut wrenching and awful and it affected all four of us in ways that we probably all haven't completely processed.  My dad was disillusioned, my mom was traumatized so badly it was like she was assaulted, I put my entire core identity into fighting against every injustice and my brother was victimized (probably twice since he also saw what happened to his family).  It was life changing for all of us.  

One of my colleagues in a meeting once said about change "another day, another way".  At the time I felt like that was a cop out.  I thought you should just push harder and be louder and fight stronger.  I have always understood strategy but I have not always understood nuance.  That phrase is starting to resonate more and more. 

Mennonites have this thing about missed opportunities especially those of us that descended recently from refugees.  So the email providing me with the opportunity to persist and work to make things better resonates so strongly and appeals to my nature of wanting to make things better.  The pull is strong. But I am older now and (hopefully) wiser and know that the seeds of opportunity needs to be planted in soil that believes change is important and possible.  If the soil isn't right it's just not going to grow.  My grandparents probably told me that somewhere along the way and I didn't hear them - saying no and trusting myself does not dishonour their lack of opportunities - it honours the wisdom they instilled in me.