To Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., beloved community meant a society built on love, justice, and equality, where all individuals are treated with dignity and respect, and, a world free from poverty, hunger, and hate, where people live in harmony and work together to create a better future. I sense most of us wish for such a community - in our families, our cities, our countries, and our world - and I also sense that an original intent of all world religions was to guide us towards this vision. Yet it remains elusive.
So, it seems changes are indeed required, and having spent more time on the margins in recent years, I believe Dr. King is spot on in highlighting these two. Still early in my own change curve, I’m unexpectedly experiencing what King doesn’t convey above, which is that these changes in our souls and our lives are not just requirements, they are also precious rewards. A parallel might be tender vulnerability in marriage. It is both a requirement for a flourishing marriage and a reward of a flourishing marriage. And when we take the leap of faith into the scary unfamiliar, a more loving community begins to unfold within us and around us.
Describing these precious rewards, last year I drafted two posts about my family, two friends, and a Jesuit priest. Next month, I’ll travel to LA with these two friends, among others, to attend a gathering with this priest and his beloved community, Homeboy Industries. So, I thought it fitting at this time to revive the posts here.
April 12, 2024
Last year, I met LeTeisha Gordon and the Richmond non-profit she founded eight years ago, A Better Day Than Yesterday. Their mission is to educate, empower, and equip at-risk families with the skills to overcome adversities caused by incarceration, divorce, and justice-impacted veterans. In December, A Better Day acquired a small house just off Hull Street, which is now about to open. The Straight Talk 4 Girls Home will provide temporary housing and holistic life skills programming for at-risk teen girls impacted by the criminal-legal system and social services.
Aware of this expansion, I offered LeTeisha two SingleStone laptops, which she promptly and gratefully accepted. She'd use one as a shared resource for the girls, and another to run this separate operating unit of A Better Day. Tori and our three children were on spring break last week, so we drove to Richmond one day to deliver the laptops to LeTeisha, for high jinks at a trampoline park, and to visit with other friends and family. After touring the Straight Talk 4 Girls Home, LeTeisha and I discussed her laptop needs and agreed on a future date for setup and training.
Like many community organizations, social media is an essential means of connection and communication, so it wasn’t too surprising when LeTeisha asked to take a selfie. What was surprising were the tears welling up from within her as she made the ask, a spontaneous and powerful reminder of how much these laptops mean to her and the girls, and perhaps more importantly, how much it means when others care. I know that feeling well because friends and family stepped in to care for me and my siblings when our parents died young. It’s pure joy to be on either side of this exchange, although the phrase either side seems precisely flawed here, since the joyous feelings are ones of deep connection and oneness.
I was back with LeTeisha for a few hours yesterday afternoon, training her on the laptops and learning more about her life. As a child, her father and uncle were incarcerated; her brothers have done time; and now as a mother, she feels the heartache of seeing her own son locked up. The powerful centuries-old cycle continues, and yet with resolve and compassion, she channels her adversity to help break this cycle for many in her community. As we parted with a hug, LeTeisha said, “Say hi to Tori and the kids,” a touching reminder that my family is now also in her family, and very honored and grateful to be.
Ten Weeks Later: June 28, 2024
With nine siblings, 22 niblings, and almost 70 first cousins, one might expect me to know a bit about kinship. And maybe I do. Friends often remark on how close I am with my siblings, who span multiple countries. If we are closer than typical, this may stem from our shared hardships and healing, the result of our parents dying young.
In a recent post I introduced friend LeTeisha Gordon, whose family also knows hardships, among them intergenerational incarceration. Yet she channels her adversity to help break this cycle for many in her community. The post described a visit my wife, children, and I had with LeTeisha, when I was surprised by spontaneous joyous feelings of deep connection and oneness with her. Since then, from the words and works of Fr. Greg Boyle, founder of Homeboy Industries in LA, the largest gang intervention, rehabilitation, and re-entry program in the world, I’ve learned that the word for such feelings is kinship.
However, kinship with LeTeisha is different from kinship I’ve previously known, in that these are feelings of deep connection and oneness with a person I had once seen as other, and lesser, without even knowing her. No one consciously taught me this perspective, and I never consciously thought it. So, if it’s not conscious, how do I know it’s there? Let’s just say, when I honestly examine my familiar people, priorities, places, and pastimes, I know. I suspect it’s a product of social, religious, political, and economic systems that emphasize othering, judgment, superiority, and getting ahead, over oneness, compassion, equality, and walking beside. I was immersed into these systems by good people, who themselves were immersed by good people, and so on. All this is hard to accept, but easier now that I no longer deny it or feel lesser for it, assured that it’s never too late to change, and even break this intergenerational cycle.
I feel cherished kinship with my siblings, reliving childhood memories and recalling our parents, and with Tori and our children many times each day. Kinship with Teisha is special because it feels like a reunion with a long-lost sibling, joyful for what has been found and sad for what had been lost. Relaying countless stories of lethal gang enemies becoming caring close friends, the natural effect of simply working side-by-side, Boyle asserts that it’s nearly impossible to sustain a sense of otherness, superiority, and even enmity with a person once you’ve spent time with them and seen into their eyes. This is my experience too, and I’m grateful to Teisha and many others for inviting me close enough to see into their eyes and helping me evolve from a perspective and experience of otherness towards a fresh and liberating oneness.
On a drive last week, listening to Boyle’s audio book, Tattoos on the Heart, the chapter entitled Kinship, I felt extreme joy relating to his stories of connection and love replacing separation and fear, and profound grief for what I’d been missing for so long. I felt grateful for the qualitative changes unfolding in my soul and a bit afraid of what quantitative changes may be required in my life. Surprised by tears, I pulled over. I could have used a friend in that moment.
As I sat with these feelings, a text came in from Tom, who recently celebrated his 4-year re-birthday, the day he was released from 19 years in prison, nine without visitors. Alongside Teisha, Tom also strives to break cycles of hurt and to nurture healing in our community. He texted, “If you have a few minutes today give me a call my friend.” I called him right back and after some chit-chat asked, “Can I help you with anything?” to which Tom replied, “Oh no, I just wanted to check in on you, my brother.” Kinship.
When we feel vulnerable, Lost and even Sad . We are reminded that taking a deep Breath really Helps . Also that when we reach out to others we receive a whole lot more. The universe will look after US All. Thank you for being such a caring Human .
I personally strive for kinship with every person I come into contact with, my challenge is time, and my sense of saturation or is it satiation when it comes to friends and family. Thanks for sharing brother.