A Small Miracle

wendysmedley.typepad.com

     As I teach at a university, we have faculty development days and forums two to three times a year. We often have outside speakers or our own faculty speaking on various topics from classroom management to pedagogy. Some of the presentations are really useful, others are restatements of what most of us already know we should do but don’t, and as in any conference or business some are just a complete waste of time.
     Before the start of this school year, as per our norm, we had another of these gatherings. It was called the 2019 Professional Development Day. The theme of the morning was “The Call to Service: Culturally Relevant Pedagogies.” The rest of the day was updates on policy and other administrative items that we simply needed to be updated on.
     The morning theme, Culturally Relevant Pedagogies, and the background of the keynote speaker from a prestigious local university had me expecting to be hearing a kind of diversity training session. That would be OK. It would be a good refresher as over the years, I have been required to attend around ten or so at the various companies and schools I have worked. I have been to enough of these to think I could actually run such a training or speak at such an event. I do not, however, expect to be called to do such, any time soon.
     Given that this was a university event, considering the topic, and noting that all the speakers were women half of them of color, there was some chance that I was going to be talked to and lectured at. I am, after all, in the demographic that seems to be held responsible for the social injustices in this country. If not held responsible, I am certainly a beneficiary, to some degree, of white privilege.
     As it turns out, it was not so bad. I did not feel like I was talked to or in a demographic that was being singled out. I just did not relate to much of what the speakers were saying and there were not a lot of attempts at providing real actions. There were undertones of the dialogues on race I have been hearing or reading about lately. It boils down to that I can neither define what racism is nor do I have the ability to know if I am being biased or racist. This is not hopeful. It makes me want to give up on trying any longer to figure this out because by the new definition I am not capable of doing so.
     This made me feel a little frustrated. Note, I was not feeling beaten, battered, or sermonized at. I wasn’t feeling hopeful either. After the keynote, I listened to the response panel of my colleagues but stopped taking notes.
     The last speaker, however, turned it all around. It was Deborah Penny, Professor of Spiritual Formation in our Seminary.  She was amazing and gracious. She talked about it being all our problem and it would take all of us working together to find ways to improve and keep the momentum of what has been gained moving into the future. It was hopeful. I felt I could be part of working toward a better America. I am sure that my summary did not fully convey the full value of the message she shared… as I had stopped taking notes.
     I was intent on thanking Deborah for her very good speech and hopeful message. As the session broke for lunch, she was not to be found. OK. I made a mental note to send her an email expressing my thoughts. Well, I never got around to sending that email even though the thought to do so resurfaced every few days. What can I say, the beginning of the semester and other projects I was immersed in were consuming my time and energy.
     About a month after the event, I ran into Deborah in the parking lot. I greeted her and said, “I owe you an apology. I really liked your words the Professional Development Day and have been meaning to write and tell you that. I was feeling a bit discounted and a bit talked to by the other speakers and your message was positive and uplifting. I really appreciated it.”
     She started crying.
     I started to wonder what I had said wrong or how I might have been insensitive when she said, “Let me explain, why I am crying.” I said, “please do.”Deborah  said, “A few days earlier that I was wondering if my words on that day had any relevance or impact on anyone. I prayed to God to give me a sign.” I said, “Oh my, wow…” and knew I had just experienced the hand of God at work in that small miraculous moment. Then she added, “And, it had to be a white male.” Yes, it did.... indeed it did.