Watching college football and returning home to the University of South Carolina with my educational doctorate, something important occurred to me. This time of year offers many thoughts. The words “pumpkin spice latte” are on minds of coffee fans at their favorite locations, and there’s the ideal of tinted leaves, bonfires, a little wind, and beautiful afternoons. It encourages—in some cases causes to dread—time with family during Thanksgiving and Christmas. While it sounds too early, we all consider our autumn plans.
All of this—just like the pictures of life in the garden with this post—shows our humanity. It demonstrates our essence; something beyond one day in November.
I was grateful to see the return of college football today; something on television besides that which could be divisive, and that which sought underline our differences more than what we share in common. I’ll admit I didn’t mind seeing a certain team in orange get rolled today, but at least that is simpler to disagree over compared with politics.
We are at time when we will all ask ourselves, as Dumbledore says in “Harry Potter,” “There will be a time when we must choose between what is right and what is easy.” What that might be looks different for each person and their conscience. I grew up on the Bible—untouched by politics—where it said, “Judge not lest you be judged.”
A former student sent me an email, and told me how I brought her closer to God. I never considered myself any such person. I didn’t even know I was that open about it with any student other than I had struggled with faith, since Corrie’s death. I thought about this because there is another member of our team who is usually what I’d consider closer to faith than me. But she told me I was the reason she’d found that relationship.
I try to honor the memory of my grandparents everyday, and they never said word one about politics or religion. Really the only thing my paternal grandmother said to me was that, “I don’t sing in church because no one wants to hear me sing.” What their politics were, I never knew. While I understood where they put their faith, it wasn’t vocal nor in your face. It was through actions that you knew my grandparents by their walk. My maternal grandfather walked the same road. He was of the opposite political party as my grandmother, and they loved each other immensely. I witnessed my grandmother’s grief tenfold. My Gramps went to help homeless men on a regular basis in Columbia, South Carolina while he lived.
All four my grandparents recognized something I see slipping away. They recognized humanity in others whether it was the desire to sit down for a cup of coffee, or the art of knowing this friend doesn’t share the same political ideals as you, so find something else to discuss.
I’m sharing my testimony now, and only now, because I feel it in my soul. I believe that I must live a good and decent life if I am to see my little girl again.
Three years ago, Corrie’s former teacher shared a story about her. Both she and Charles exposed John and my political beliefs. Charles very recently did so, and I turned bright red. Corrie’s teacher said, “She told me [of an individual who formerly held a high office], and said, ‘Mrs. Gary, when he takes those children from their parents, that is wrong. He is a bad guy.’” I thought, as we stood on that autumn day three years ago at her grave, Corrie did the same as Charles. She’d formed her own thought of this individual. I wanted to share the full story, but not in a way that would be taken as political or misunderstood. I was so proud of my daughter—not for a political thought—but of recognizing humanity in others. I am proud of her still. I’m proud of my son.
All of this said, as I watch the University of Miami mess with Florida’s mind on the field currently, I have beloved friends and family whose politics are the complete opposite of mine. Those are their beliefs, morals, and reasoning. In a time when it seems we can only be (a) or (b), I remember who was with me in the months and years after Corrie’s death. I remember who came to my house in the country. I remember who encouraged me eat. I recall very well who told me I had to go back to my school …
Because my dearest friends in the world recognized my humanity, talent and what we share in common. We can discuss seeds, technology, health, and pumpkin spice lattes.
Remember an election will pass no matter which way it is decided, but diseases, such as cancer or a rare and benign abdominal tumor recognize no race, culture, or religion. It’s better to avoid that rain check, and meet your friend for coffee one more time.
Corrie's Season 