Keep your head up, keep your heart strong (No, no, no, no), Keep your mind set, keep your hair long. Oh my my darlin' keep your head up, keep your heart strong....
Recently, I had one of those moments that is so incredulous that my jaw actually dropped open and I found myself looking around, as if to say "Did Anybody Else Just See That Happen?" And I'm not talking about a fender bender or an argument in the road that you can then relay to your friends in a play by play. It's not a story that makes people nod in agreement then shake their heads in disbelief. I am talking about a moment that changes you. And jades you. And makes you question every behavior you have ever exhibited towards another person.
But I digress... Rewind a few weeks to the Annual Girl Scout Camp Fire. Yes - this story starts with a Girl Scout event. And I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, "Only Carolyn could find drama at a Girl Scout Event". "What is it this time? Cookie Crisis? Playground Politics? The Great S'more Debate?"
I Wish.
A few weeks ago, in the middle of a beautiful Scouts event - one where children and parents of all ages, races, and cultural backgrounds were playing together in a field - a woman, nay, a Mother - called me a Racist.
Now I've been called a lot of things in my life. I've been called a bitch and the c-word, and "that white girl" and an Oyibo (which loosely means Crazy White Girl). Once a woman from school completely freaked out on me and then had the gall to call me "Jennifer" for most of her rant. She was definitely angry with me, but seriously? If you're going to berate someone in public, at least get their name right. Evil Wench.
But this was different. This was not a slip of the tongue or a heated argument that escalated to the point of irrational accusations. This was a deliberate and well-timed verbal assault - an ambush, if you will. This person definitely and clearly felt (for some time) that I had been ostracizing (cue the most commonly used term from my college days - "marginalizing").. wait for it.. BLACK WOMEN when it came to my selection of volunteers.
Like I said, I've been called some nasty names over the years, but I have also worked with volunteers across a dozen different disciplines - also, for years. Private schools, Fundraising, the Arts, Athletics - you name it, I have done it. And let me tell you something - volunteering is a thankless job where 20% of the people do 80% of the work. And if I have learned one thing, it is to never turn a volunteer away. Clearly, some people are better suited for certain roles than others but everyone has something to give. Time, Treasure, Talent - that's what we used to say in my Development days. Everyone can do one of those things. If you can make a decent cupcake or sell a raffle ticket or hook us up with a cheap DJ, then Honey, You're Hired.
In my heart, I know it often takes me time to find a good fit for someone on my team. Other times, I am moving so fast that I don't stop and ask for help as often as I should. This is actually a big issue for me. Perhaps eager volunteers get left behind. Perhaps they don't know how to jump in. Perhaps I am one of those people that allows (wants?) everyone to think I'm in charge even when I have absolutely no desire to be.
But I know this much - I could give a (insert your expletive of choice here) what color you are.
What burns me the most is not that I was accused of being racist (although, it is absolutely, most definitely one of my Top 5 Most Shocking Moments) but that this person chose to bring race into the conversation. What place does race have in this scenario? It's. A. Girl. Scout. Troop. This is an organization whose entire foundation is based on supporting and promoting the educational and cultural growth of girls across the world. One of its many goals is to empower girls and help them become strong women by breaking down barriers (Barriers People!), ultimately creating a sense of sisterhood .
Ahh.. Yes, Sisterhood! Remember those days? Anyone? Anyone? That powerful bond that used to exist when mothers and aunties and sisters and grandmas all raised each other's kids? I mean do we all need to read The Red Tent again? I'm gonna go with Yes. Perhaps the concept of Sisterhood died when the Mommy Wars started? Perhaps it lost its meaning when women were taught to secretly tear themselves apart while publically tearing each other down? Thanks for that, Internet.
Now I could use this forum to explain all the reasons why I am not racist. But I'm not going to do that because that would sink me to this woman's level. Also, people always look like jackasses when they do that. Attempting to prove I am not a racist would require me to list and categorize my friends and family in a way that is contradictory to how I see them and what they mean to me. Do I love meeting people whose race and culture differs from mine? Yes. Do I love (promote, advertise, support) blended families and inter-racial marriages? Yes. Do I have a thing for dark skinned guys? Yes, Yes I do. But do I put people in boxes? ... Sometimes.
And don't we all? My world is full of people from all over the planet and I enjoy learning about where they are from. Mostly, I thoroughly enjoy hearing people's stories and learning about what makes them uniquely, them. And if someone takes issue with that, well I say, Goodonyou. Have at it. Bring It. It is an important discussion to have but not an easy one. So you better bring your A Game. (insert The Slow 80s Movie Clap here).
I am not going to stand here and defend myself but I will admit that I categorized this woman. I ticked the box and I put her in it. And that box my friends, is CrazyTown.