The Direction of Intention

“Food, in the end, in our own tradition, is something holy. It’s not about nutrients and calories. It’s about sharing. It’s about honesty. It’s about identity.” ~ Louise Fresco

On any given day, as a citizen of the United States of America, I can go eat at any number of restaurants. Among my choices are Chinese, Mexican, Irish, Ethiopian, Vietnamese Thai, Greek, Italian, Indian…It’s a wildly long and diverse list of options. It is also a living vibrant expression of the truth of our nation. We are diverse. We work hard. We have roots that reach into and across many, many cultural traditions. At our best we support and celebrate each other in the most basic of ritual: we gather around tables and share a meal. Despite the utter madness that the Stephen Millers of the world spew, the essential truth of our nation is hiding in plain sight. Take a walk down any city street. Open your eyes. Savor the diversity that defines us. e pluribus unum.

And, if that is lost on you, tune into the music and the musical traditions that the artists of this nation produce and represent.

Our great strength is our diversity. The Achilles Heel of our democratic experiment is the manipulation of our diversity. There is a long standing tradition of pitting us against each other and the color line makes for ease of manufactured division. It’s colonial crowd control. The most effective tool for keeping power over the diverse community is to fabricate an enemy within. While the masses are consumed with fighting with each other, the Epstein Class gets away with robbery, rape and murder. It has been this way since our inception as a nation.

Our Achilles Heel will kill us if we do not at long last learn that the division is concocted – and transcend it. We are made rich in our diversity. We need not white wash our history; we need to roll up our sleeves and learn from it. Black history* is white history and vice versa. If only we could sit at a table together and share a meal as family. Someday perhaps.

I’ve written about the day I met students at the International Center and led them across campus to develop a play in the theatre. I entered the building while they stopped abruptly as if they’d run into a wall of glass. Privilege is blind to itself and that was one of the many experiences that opened my eyes. They told me that they weren’t allowed to enter. Our play was about folk tales across culture and our first lesson together was about invisible barriers. Weeks later, after together we crossed the barrier, after they easily stepped across the threshold and began to make the theatre space their own, we shared sweet treats. I brought chocolate chip cookies. They brought sweet rice and cakes. We told stories about our sweet treats, love-filled memories of grandparents, holiday celebrations, family traditions. We laughed. We learned that our traditions, all though different on the surface, are about the same things.

We love. We honor family. We dream of opportunity and making better lives for ourselves and our children. We seek new experiences and believe in the power of kindness. We come together to share meals in a sacred place we create – and call home: The United States of America.

*It is February, the month that we traditionally celebrate Black History. Even though the current leadership of the nation is taking down plaques and removing exhibits from our museums, the truth remains. The history is explicit. The struggle continues. Celebrate Black History Month.

read Kerri’s blogpost about COOKIES

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