Difference Matters

Why we're scared of it and what it will take to get un-stuck (+ a delicious plan for your weekend)

Not long after the 2016 election, I was came upon this quilt in an airport and snapped a pic. I was deep in my feelings about why we’re so divided and how to navigate our widening differences. Just after lift-off, I saw a different kind of quilt below. This is a metaphor worth over-thinking.

I recently had the opportunity to speak at a corporate training on the importance of embracing difference. The folks who hired me are appropriately concerned about the barriers that form when we hesitate to even try to understand each other, when we let our comfort levels dictate who we get close to and who we don’t, when we fall into seeing the world through a lens of ideologies rather than as a whole cloth - a bit knotted up, but sturdy enough to see us through winter.

I walked through the story of Cory and I realizing we lived (and always had) in a bubble, where everyone around us looked, lived, and believed as we did.¹ It’s a peaceful existence, as long as we don’t think too hard about what we might be missing. Besides, why would we overthink it? This is the fundamental flaw of our subconscious efforts to group ourselves according to similarity and comfort - until we face even small amounts of friction (difference), we have no reason to examine the patterns of our lives more deeply. It becomes a weird sort of self-fulfilling prophecy. Life is good! No problems here! Most dangerous of all - while this feels great to us, it undermines and erases the experiences of others. And on and on it goes…

Since 2020, the year of *some* reckoning on race and racism following the murders of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd and others, we’ve watched as DEI (Diversity Equity and Inclusion) made it’s pilgrimage into and back out of corporate America. This “DEI backlash” highlights our lost will to even discuss racial difference.

“Diversity and inclusion experts say the legal backlash is already having a chilling effect over corporate efforts to address workplace inequality at a time when investment and interest in such initiatives have slowed following the post-Floyd surge.” - Fortune

Then there are other kinds of difference. Ethnicity. Politics. Faith. Socioeconomic status. Gender and sexuality. Marital status. Age. Family structure. We could list these forever. It’s easy to think of “difference” or “diversity” as 1-3 major identifiers, but in reality, we are made of difference.

(We are also made of some broad similarities. But the fact that we’d rather talk about those things is all the proof we need. We have work to do, and it’s not getting easier.)

This week alone, I was met with several real-life object lessons.

1. I was surprised by a friend’s perspective on the war in Gaza.

2. I found myself in a mild conflict with a friend over my faith and my work.

3. I was confronted by someone I genuinely like about my sweatshirt featuring a school mascot.²

In all three instances, I fumbled for a response. I knew how I felt (tense, misunderstood, judged, worried, offended, confused, diminished). But I was also concerned about finding the right words, monitoring my tone (a struggle especially for Enneagram 8s), protecting the “peace”, and feeling anxious that I might wrong.

My first impulse was to do nothing, to let the moment pass in service of preserving even the illusion of common ground. Basically: don’t make a big deal out of it. (How many times have I heard that?)

Though it is rarely my first choice, I did engage the conflicts. Here’s a rundown:

1. Because the moment did not lend itself to a discussion or “argument,” I simply said, “I would love to talk about this more sometime.”

2. I sent a very imperfect text response (this happened in a group chat - not ideal!) clarifying and seeking clarification.

3. I firmly but kindly said, “I like this sweatshirt and this is the mascot I prefer.” When they interrupted me I firmly but kindly repeated, “This is what I prefer.”

Fun fact: I was plagued with low-grade self-doubt about all of these responses. Why didn’t I say more? What if they’re right? What if I’m wrong? Maybe I don’t know enough to even have an opinion!

Unpopular opinion: That’s a healthy place to be when it comes to the larger arc of this conversation. Self-reflection and examination are always fruitful. Holding the humility of “I might be wrong” is an important ingredient for surviving this. (What exactly is this? Why are we all crying a little on the inside?)

I am a house divided against itself. I’m torn down the middle when it comes to living in extremes/binary thinking, and trusting the value of mutual understanding. (Reminder: Mutual agreement is often not on the table.)

I want to lean toward understanding more often, even if it makes me feel momentarily pathetic, or unmoored, or I have SUCH A GOOD COMEBACK. I am the holder the strong opinions with activism and advocacy baked into my DNA. One of my dominant values is speaking truth to power. And, also… we run the risk of losing our ability to think for ourselves when we’re not forced to do so. We don’t seem to be getting more skilled at locating reason or nuance.

It feels so damn good to side with the home team. But I’m interested in finding small, sustainable ways to stay curious and open-hearted to others, too.³

Surrounding myself with mirrors is comforting. But I’m interested in continuing to find proximity (aka discomfort) with those who live and suffer and vote (gaaaaaasp!) differently. I don’t want a relationship to end over a sweatshirt… even as I strongly believe there are not “two sides” to this conversation. I don’t want my hope to extinguish (the constant threat is why this matters so much.)⁴

I am living proof that people change. I used to be “over there”. 10/10 times, I say this as a reminder to myself. If we want to hold hope that growth is possible, we have to start by believing it’s possible in us. It is civically irresponsible to catwalk through life believing change is the imperative only for everyone else. We all have blind spots.

There’s so much to feel angry and heartbroken about. Despair has never looked sexier. We’re going to keep diving in, staying alert about the world we’re in, educating ourselves - not as experts but as thoughtful neighbors, and searching for those glimmers of rest and goodness - the counterweights - to help keep us moving forward for the long haul.

I plan to say more about all of this in the coming months. I hope you’ll stick around, dive in, and invite others who might be floundering in similar ways.

We can get better at choosing each other, even when it’s not easy.

We can remember we are all part of the cloth.

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This Week’s Counterweights

:: Locate the Listeners

As you know, I’m a C-Rate political junkie. I’m thoroughly enjoying The Run-Up podcast by New York Times. We know the outcome of the Iowa caucus, but if you (like me) are struggling to understand voters, I highly recommend listening to back episodes How Iowa Learned to Love Trump and In a Song of the Summer, Clues for January in Iowa. This is a non-partisan podcast and I’m in awe of Astead Herndon’s ability to talk to people with kindness and curiosity.

:: Be open to generosity

On Sunday evening I received a DM from one of you (Thank you, Jodi!) asking if I or someone I knew would be interested in a ticket to an Allison Russell concert the following Tuesday. I offered it to a few Grand Rapids friends. Though it didn’t work for them, one of them sent along a link to Allison’s music and when I played it, Cory intensely asked, “WHO IS THIS?!!!” Ta-da! We had a taker. At the last minute, I decided to ride along. And that’s how we ended up driving in a blizzard on a school night! Cory loved the show. I got a quick hour of queso and my editor (!!!! we are in discussions !!!!) And I had the opportunity to increase my resilience as I walked through downtown GR - in a blizzard - in search of our parking garage at 9pm. (At one point I wondered if I might cry?)

Note to self: try to pay more attention to important things. Consider deleting some old files (examples: celebrity trivia circa 1991-2006, good comebacks for conversations you’ll never have, the landline phone numbers of your high school friends) to free up space.

:: Eat a Cozy Weekend Meal

I’m almost finished reading Taste: My Life Through Food by Stanley Smoochie⁵ and though it hasn’t quite lived up to everyone’s high praise (sorry, world!) it has made me hungry.

Last Sunday, I made a batch of slow-simmered marinara and these meatballs. I remembered Stanley saying the key to good meatballs is a 1:1 ratio of ground meat to (hydrated) bread crumbs. He’s right!

I honestly want to do it all again this weekend, with the addition of this crave-worthy Big Italian Salad and a viewing of Smoochie’s masterpiece, Big Night.

Feel free to copy me and we’ll enjoy a cozy parallel playdate of sorts!

Later, gators!

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A couple of related posts, in case you missed them:

1. On living in a bubble: Guess what? We didn’t have the awareness yet that our comfy bubble would be anything but for our kids. (sigh) I’m grateful that we accidentally did something right for our kids. It has been far from perfect and there are things I would do differently, but just as dominant culture should actively seek difference (safely and with humility) it’s even more important to realize that we are someone else’s “other.” Looking at the world through that lens feels important.

2. The Sweatshirt Incident: Years ago, Goshen Public Schools replaced their mascot from Redsk*ns to Redhawks. You would have thought the earth was actively falling off its axis by the way some people tore their hair. I wrote about this in Start with Hello (p. 140-142) Anyway, I was wearing a sweatshirt (found at Goodwill!) with a picture of a Redhawk and the word “volleyball” beneath it, as I am, alas, a proud Redhawk volleyball mom.

3. As I’m editing for typos, just reading my own words here has me silently sputtering rebuttals TO MYSELF. This is messy work, pals.

4. The Both Sides Fallacy: I hope you’re well-acquainted with my foundational belief that there are not “two sides” to many things. When one side hurts people, it isn’t a side. It’s difficult to not give a million disclaimers. Some things are non-negotiable. Some people and relationships are unsafe and unhealthy. Not everything can be redeemed at the moment. Etc…!

5. He’s cute, okay! My HS BFF coined him as this and I see no other way. (Link is Bookshop affiliate!)