K is for Kindness

It is hard to avoid  the pressing concerns that swirl about our troubled world. Headlines scream of global warming....news stories explode with incidents of war, prejudice  and massacre.

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So often, we sit shaking our heads, mouth open, appalled at how we, as a people, have so gravely damaged ourselves and our world.

But what can we do...what can any of us do to make a difference in the face of ongoing  devastation?.

A good start is to believe we have more individual power than we think.

I have noted that kindness has become under-rated. Of course, we hear many stories of people putting their own safety at risk to help a stranger. Such stories reaffirm our faith in human nature. 

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Unfortunately, there are also tales to highlight the disconnect that plagues modern society...too many incidents of people looking the other way because they don't want to get involved.

But imagine a world wherein each of us dug deep in ourselves for empathy and compassion...imagine if a Kindness Movement rose up from where it has been sleeping and we began to take care of one another, not just our own family, but reached out to offer a helping hand to anyone  we saw in need. 

I know I may be criticized for my Pollyanna optimism...I have been in the past. Perhaps it is simplistic to suggest a bit of kindness can change 

the world, but where else can we all start, if not with ourselves?

Kindness multiplies when it is given freely and openly. It need not be much...even a small gesture can expand when passed on.

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 I have a dear friend at work who practices Random Acts of Kindness. She might mention casually that she'd paid for the coffee a man ahead of her in Starbucks had ordered. Her immediate reward is a happy grin from the surprised customer.

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 But can you picture, then, how that man will do something nice when a chance comes up for him to make a difference in someone else's day?

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Imagine that multiplied many times over and you begin to see that change is possible. Get involved in your community. Give  what you can...do all that you are able to on this busy planet and we all benefit.

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Make each day a chance to improve your world in small ways. When you see tourists quizzically scanning a map, go over and help them find their way. Better yet, buy them a drink from the nearest street vendor, while expounding on the many beauties to be found in your part of the world.

Kindness will not always feel like kindness.  I have found it difficult in the past to tell people I do not appreciate what they are saying, but I will no longer listen to racist jokes....it is not just a joke!

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Pointing out that I'm an immigrant, too, and that I find the reference offensive always leads to sputtering and protestations: "Oh I didn't mean you...you're white and you speak English!"

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These are words my egalitarian spirit cannot embrace. I only hope that a calm discussion may cause that person to think before he spews out more bigotry disguised as humour.

I am no-one's idea of a role model...nor am I besieged with kudos and awards, but I have learned in my time that we each have untold depths of compassion and goodness in us just waiting to be unleashed and embraced.

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Of this, I am sure...

Please drop by ABC Wednesday to see more takes on the letter 'K".

http://abcwednesday-mrsnesbitt.blogspot.ca/

The Immigrant Experience

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Cameras played little part in my childhood. This is a rare, early photo of me with my brother Martin in Belfast.

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I came to Canada as a child, caught up in the wave of hopefuls who fled Great Britain in the difficult years following WWII in search of a better life. Like many, circumstance forced me to adapt to a culture very different from my own. Such a move required courage and determination, and I lacked both at the start. Strange sights and sounds overwhelmed me. I longed to go back home, sure that I could never be happy here. Time proved me wrong and I adjusted to Canadian society with relative ease, building a good life among people who accepted me as one of their own. Even as a child, I recognized that my smooth integration differed markedly from that of other newcomers, particularly those whose ethnicity spoke out in the colour of their skin. I came to understand that the elitism facilitating my assimilation made sure others would remain forever on the outside, no matter how long they might live in their adoptive country.
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Bigotry darkened my childhood from birth. As Protestants in Northern Ireland, my parents charged me to spurn Catholics...they were not our 'kind'. Exposed to Canada’s diverse range of cultural groups, my father's ire was simply re-directed. One day, after listening to a vitriolic tirade about foreigners taking over the country, I reminded him timorously that we were not born here either. My father responded with raised eyebrows and imperialistic indignation, “Why, you cannot compare us to outsiders. After all, we're white..and we're British!” I understood that his specious logic was the only justification needed to vilify real foreigners. Helplessness silenced me, even as I sensed an uncomfortable truth behind the arrogant words. I could not deny that my fair skin and Irish background influenced people to welcome me warmly. My old-world ways matched their preconceived notions and granted me easy access to where others were denied admittance.

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While many emigrants struggled to be understood, my Gaelic lilt guaranteed an instant smile. Given unaccustomed foods like hamburgers and pizza, the fact that I cut them up neatly with a knife and fork made adults beam approval at my manners. I never had to deal with disparaging remarks about what I ate or how the scent of that food lingered on my clothes. Although this high level of acceptance helped me adjust to my altered life, being singled out embarrassed me. I wished only to belong. With haste, I swapped my school blazer for flip-flops and became so fluent in the local vernacular that I looked and sounded exactly like my Canadian playmates. I knew this was not the case for those whose customs were more difficult to merge. Although I abandoned much to fit in, others gave up more for a smaller return.
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I no longer stand silent in the face of exclusion based on stereotyping of any kind. If I measure someone's worth, it will be based on an individual’s contribution to society, not on a race or creed. In conversation, I seek words of tolerance and inclusion, regardless of accent. I am part of a cycle greater than my own life. This planet is my home and every inhabitant on it my brother or sister, forever linked to me by bonds of responsibility and compassion. I want to hear the stories they tell and embrace the differences that have shaped our diverse lives. Each one of us must reject apathy and actively make this a world wherein mercy and equality are the birthright of all people.

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That change begins with me.

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