Home-based group discussions of the issues that shape our lives should be taking place everywhere in this nation, and on a regular basis. The Sunday Soup and Salad Salon has been meeting once a month for four years, and whether I agree or disagree with the ideas expressed, they force my thoughts to travel in unexpected directions.

About forty people showed up at our post-election salon. Everyone was relieved that the election wasn’t stolen, was euphoric, optimistic, reveled in the sense of solidarity with each other and with the rest of the country. And most believed in Obama’s good intentions. Yet there also was skepticism, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but....” And there were those who wondered, with such a deep divide, how do we heal? Then there’s the question: what next? The base is expanded, energized, excited, expectant, where do we go from here?

An African-American woman noticed an unaccustomed deference from a clerk, and that’s what I was thinking most about afterwards. Especially when a friend said to me that deference, but for all the wrong reasons, is creepy.

Is it? What are right reasons? I suspect most human interactions are plagued by so-called wrong reasons, by hidden agendas, even by agendas hidden from those who’ve written them. People often don’t recognize the “real” reason for their actions. Even the more self-analytical specimens of our species fall short.

Is it creepy if a latent, or even a blatant, racist looks at an African-American with more respect because a black man is our president-elect? Perhaps that racist will begin to realize that we’re all just human beings. What starts as a wrong reason could ultimately become a trigger for positive behavior.

And perhaps the flipside of this is true: perhaps the clerk didn’t treat her with more deference, perhaps she was simply feeling more self-confidence, feeling that more possibilities have opened up. Perhaps she was feeling more pride in being black.
 

One of France’s three major television networks was in Shorewood last week, at the Alliance Francaise, to put together an election story scheduled to air after the election. The reporters wanted to know how women here feel about the candidates and the possible impact of the results on our corner of the country. So about ten of us became a backdrop: we sat at a table, nibbled cookies, sipped tea, and listened to the interviewees give concise descriptions of Obama. As you’ve probably noticed, there aren’t many McCain supporters in Shorewood, and none showed up.

Afterwards I got to thinking about the impact of the election here even before it has taken place, the plethora of signs, the neighborhood filled with canvassers for Obama, the excitement,
the endless political conversations. Almost everyone I know, even those who have never volunteered before, is working for Obama. 

At the Fitness Center on Saturday, every thread of conversation I picked up was about the election. “Did you vote yet?” “...two hour wait in Milwaukee.” “In Shorewood there’s no wait at all...” “Thank God, it’s almost over,” said someone, but the discussion didn’t stop there. It continued from weight machine to weight machine. Politics and fitness seem to go together. It’s all I’ve overheard for the past several months! At the gym. And at the cafes, the meetings, the grocery stores, in front yards, from passers-by on cell phones.

Yes, there’s relief that we nearing the end of the line, there’s excitement, there’s hope. Then there’s the other strain, the main strain, everywhere I go: “I’m so scared!” People are worried, that’s getting more prevalent. What’s going to happen? What if they steal it again? There’s the sense that we all might be in a sinking boat, togetherness in fear. Then there are those who say it can’t happen when there’s a landslide. This morning I heard a sobering interview of Mark Crispin Miller on DemocracyNow. Read the whole interview, and I’m sure you’ll remember to bring the number, 1-866-OUR-VOTE, to the polls. If any problems arise, use it.
 

After our last Second Sunday Soup and Salad Salon, I sat down immediately to write, and that’s as far as I got. I didn’t have the time to strike while the mind was hot. Too bad. Anyway, the subject was forgiveness, and most people prefer not to think about that.

That salon was two months ago. Maybe it’s good to see what remains of the discussion as time passes. Three comments come to mind. For Elsa the main consideration in forgiveness is whether or not she can be absolutely sure she wouldn’t have done the same thing in identical circumstances. I think one of the things wrong in our society is that too many people are so self-involved that empathy has disappeared. If we placed ourselves in others’ shoes, tried to figure out why our enemies act the way they do, we might be able to figure out what to do about it.

Empathy with the enemy may be a little much to ask of most people. Yet it brings me to the other two comments. Rose told about a friend who had been married to a brilliant young scientist working on his PHD. When he was walking home from the lab late one night, a gang of boys attacked and killed him. The widow forgave her husbands’ murderers and saw to their education, did everything she could to make sure that they would never kill again. Yvette told of listening sessions in which a group of women described how abuse had affected their lives. The abusers sat in the same room.

Forgiveness doesn’t absolve the perpetrator of responsibility. It does, however, allow us to avoid being devoured by anger, hate, and greed, to concentrate on common ground and finding solutions.

Rose and Yvette sent me Emails today elaborating on their comments. Before I post them, I’ll post the introduction our facilitator, Carolyn, sent everyone ahead of time:
“In this contentious and dangerous world, do we need a dose of forgiveness, empathy and civility?  Many religions offer forgiveness as an answer to our problems.  Why is forgiveness so difficult?  Do we fear that if we forgive an enemy we are selling out, showing weakness or giving in?  Desmond Tutu says that we should pray to forgive our enemies, (and if that does not work,) pray to want to forgive our enemies, (and if that does not work,) pray to want to want ... .   I recently saw a program NOW where evangelical Christians traveled to Alaska with scientists.  Ordinarily they are on opposite sides of many issues, but they decided to try to listen to and understand each other at least on one issue, the environment and global warming.  It worked.  They were forgiving, empathetic and civil.  They were able to find common ground.  Could we use this example in other situations?  On the other hand, are there times when we need to be stubborn?”

ROSE’S MESSAGE: This is such an important subject both in interpersonal and international relations.

I think the situation with the scientist was that the widow determined that the attack was a random one and was not directed at her husband particularly and so she was able to deal with it on the level that these were troubled youth who needed to find a better way to get their kicks!

One principle that I think is important is that the person to be forgiven needs to identify what the offense was and ask for forgiveness of the offended person.  In my personal experience, I think this helps everyone not only the two involved but also those in the periphery who are affected by the conflict.

I am not sure if this was the way they handled it in South Africa during the Truth and Reconciliation Commissions.  Can someone enlighten me? Also, in Chile, the people who lost their loved ones have said to their offenders. "You must live with your shame.  We can hold our heads up high and honor those we loved. "

YVETTE’S MESSAGE: As you know, forgiveness is a journey and it has been while since I felt compelled to touch this tender place.  I have been fortunate to participate in the community restorative justice program as it was offered through the Alma Center (a nonprofit organization dedicated to ending violence and abuse in intimate relationships, families and the community)  The Alma Center has a unique focus of peace education for abusive men.
 
My participation in restorative justice work, has altered and healed my soul each time, and in different ways.  Allow me to explain:
 
The Format:
 
A number of people are gathered from the community, certain people were invited because of their unique life experience.  We all sat in a large circle, men who've been convicted of domestic violence and suffered from abuse, judges, former police officers, college students, social workers, counselors, mothers, sons, fathers and daughters.  All were there for a reason.  As we all sat facing each other, most of us strangers, we were guided by our facilitator to briefly introduce ourselves and how we came (were invited) to this circle.
 
It is a three day format.  Each participant agreed to be present for 2 1/2 hours on Friday evening, 4 hours on Saturday morning, and 2 1/2 hours on Tuesday evening.
The facilitator explained that the circle we sit in and the format that we are about to follow is drawn from the Native American traditions.  We will each have an opportunity to speak while others listen.  Then she shows us a small hand held item and explains that this will be our 'talking stick'.  The person who has it is free to speak and share his or her thoughts.  Others just listen, not to comment or respond, just listen.  When that person is finished, he passes the talking stick to his neighbor, who then may share his thoughts.  Anyone who chooses not to speak is free to pass the talking stick to his neighbor.  Silence is as acceptable as speaking.
 
The Topic:
 
The topic is violence. The question we are given to respond to is, how has violence touched your life.
 
 
The Sharing:
 
I’m grateful to be sitting about 12 people away from the talking stick. I can listen and let the memories surface without judgment. I relax and listen. I am deeply moved by each persons sharing. There is even a gift in the silence. I find that the stories start deep and get deeper.
 
More to come...

MY MESSAGE: When Yvette sends me more, I’ll definitely post it!
 

My grandkids love to run around our house, inside and out, with the flashlights I keep strategically located in case of emergency. This means of course that each time there’s a blackout, and there have been several the past few years, the flashlights are never where I left them. Or else the batteries are dead. Maybe it’s better that way. It connects me with the world outside of Shorewood.

I’ve read there are only one or two hours of electricity a day in Baghdad. That makes me even more aware of all the things I can’t do when we have NO electricity for one or two hours, or seven. Last week Wednesday from about 5:30 PM to 1:30 AM, I couldn’t use the computer, listen to NPR, watch Amy Goodman on Channel 14, finish reading Snow Flower and the Secret Fan for book club, nor even boil water on our gas stove.

Adolph and I ate cereal with raisins, bananas, and milk for supper, then decided to take a walk, a tradition with us during blackouts. We went outside, it was raining, and we came back in. I was thankful we were kept in by water and not by improvised explosive devices, trigger-happy soldiers, and suicide bombers.