Everything
Changes
By John Blumberg, Andersen Alumnus and author of Return On Integrity (www.BlumbergROI.com)
It was definitely not the news I
wanted to hear. I had long looked forward to my freshman year of high school.
For me, it wasn’t a transition at all. My two older brothers (each of us four
years apart) had gone to the same high school and both my parents were very
involved there. That meant I had been around this school for eight years before
I ever set foot in the door as a student. I knew it all too well.
Which was why I hated hearing the
news that this school was about to significantly change: our 99% all white-boy Catholic high school
was about to be consolidated with the nearby 99% all white-girl Catholic high
school and the 100% all African American Catholic high school.
The only good news was that
everyone was coming to “our” building.
This wasn’t just any high school. It was a high school in Memphis, TN
located precisely 4 miles from the Lorraine Motel where Martin Luther King had
been assassinated just a short 2 yeas prior.
The next 3 years would prove the
most important in my life.
Was it convenient? Not a bit … for any of us. Each school had a
deeply rich tradition of its own – which is wonderful until you have to let it
go. And which is awful when you try tightly holding onto it.
Was it easy? Not at all.
Misunderstandings filled the hallways every single day. The desire to go backwards was addictive.
That addiction of regression was more accessible when this experiment was in
“your” building.
Did we get it right? Rarely. Yet, as we were thrown into this
common experience, we were forced to have the difficult conversations. And
those conversations planted seeds in many of us.
Was it transformational? I simply couldn’t imagine my life without
that experience – an experience that was far more transformational than any
content that was ever taught in our classes of religion.
Unfortunately, there came a natural
end to that experience at graduation. It was far too easy to move-on with life
and give into the tug of college, work and all that everyone will tell you that
you are supposed to do. In an unfortunate human tendency, it was also inviting
to unknowingly move-on from the tension that had ironically served me so well.
Just like it was easy for a whole
generation to move-on from the tension of the 1960’s.
Yet the call to meaningful
transformation never goes away because we are wired for it. We have personally been constantly changing
since the moment of our conception – physically, mentally emotionally and
spiritually. And the world has been
constantly changing since we arrived — in many ways for the good and in other
ways not so much. Life is designed precisely so we can be agents of evolution —
the evolution of good should we choose it.
From my own experience, I would
warn today’s younger generation: so many who have come before you were just as
passionate about change as you are. In fact, you start well ahead on the change
curve because of those who came before you. And, likewise, you will have a tug
to move onward with life … or more pointedly backwards. Most importantly, it
won’t seem that way from where you are now.
Yet, seeds of change that are
planted always have a chance to grow when the conditions are right.
One would have to be blind to miss
the collision of the turbulent triple storm of our current conditions – a
global health crisis, fragile economic conditions, and social unrest. While it may be a storm, it is also a most
wonderful window of opportunity towards this evolution for good.
It can be overwhelming no matter
how anyone feels about the change. That is until I realize that this change
simply begins with me – no matter my race, my nationality, my religion, my
gender, my orientation, or my current conditions. And while it begins with me … it is not about
me.
It is about all of us … or ultimately
will be about none of us.
More precisely, it is about the
integrity of our human experience and the experience of all of creation for
that matter. Integrity is about the whole — the connectedness of all — an
integration that has been happening since the beginning of time. Yet we resist it, clinging to convenient
definitions of integrity such as honesty.
Being “honest” while resisting a greater connection is — well, very
dishonest.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not preaching here. Most likely, I’m
personally soul-searching for the fertilizer that continues to ignite the seeds
that were planted in the hallways of a high school in Memphis TN.
Now, seven months ago, I was preaching.
I was asked to do a reflection on
the readings for that weekend. Unfortunately, you don’t get to pick your own
readings. Those are set … and these were
inconvenient: God is a God of justice who has no favorites. And then it got harder: God hears the cry of
the poor.
The question becomes: will the soul
of our great nation finally and forever hear the cry of the poor, the hurt and
anger of those of color, the diminished yet forever strong voices of women, and
every single person who is different from my own make-up and my own experience.
I have no doubt that integrity is sadly a false veneer until we do. I’m not
talking about anything goes, but I am talking about everything changes.
I sometimes wonder how much
progress we would make if we would only put as much energy into our own
interior work, of hearing those who cry-out, as we do into pushing to get back
into “our” building.
Transformation is never easy. It
just makes us richer … together … on the other side of a long and winding
road. In the meantime, it will demand
from all of us in different ways. It won’t
be easy; it won’t be convenient and yes, we will get a lot of it wrong. Yet it will be transformational if we have
the courage to stay the course. In the
end, everything changes. I just slow
down the progress when I refuse to make the changes I personally need to make
along the way.
Editor’s note: Our class song was “Imagine” by John Lennon. On the surface, it might seem like an odd song for a Catholic high school. Yet, if you take a moment to virtually visit the Lorraine Motel, now the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, and then CLICK HERE (skip past the short ad and take a listen) – you might see that “Imagine” is a timely tribute to the oneness of integrity. Transformation takes imagination and then action – inside and then out.