A must listen episode about taking a stand and choosing sides when you don't want to do either.
A must listen episode about taking a stand and choosing sides when you don't want to do either.
This is Kim Bolourtchi, and you're listening to Boldly Stated. So last season, I did an episode called Blindspots. And basically it was talking about the way we make assumptions about people- where they stand, what they believe, based on a very limited amount of information. And I think that right now we are experiencing another blindspot, in that there's a collective misunderstanding between the idea of taking a stand and picking a side. So right now, picking a side means for most people, something political, it means you're either on the right, or you're on the left, you're pro Trump, or you're anti Trump. You know, when I did an episode called Neutral is Not Noble, and I was really talking about standing for something, people said to me, you know, gosh, I'm in the middle, I don't want to pick a side. And the reality is, those are two very, very different things. You can stand for truth, you can stand for honor, you can stand for each other, without also feeling like you need to identify with a political side or a particular extreme. And I find it really interesting because I think we've always been predisposed to want to be on a team, and particularly sort of a winning team. The problem is that it's very easy to pit us against each other, and capitalize on our desire to be in community with people who think like we do. Now, if you've grown up in a town or a place where you are sort of among the dominant group, whether your religion is the dominant group or your race is the dominant group, you probably don't have a sense of what it feels like to not be, you have likely grown up with sort of a built in community, a built in US group, if you will. And I'm not saying that critically, in any way. I think it's a beautiful thing to have a community. But it's important that you can see from another perspective, what it feels like to be in a place where you aren't part of that group, to understand the pull of it and understand why we are where we are. So I grew up in what was at the time, the westernmost edge of St. Louis County, at a time when there were literally no Jewish families. Everybody was was Christian, for the most part, except for me, and I think Phil Altman. I have no idea where he ended up. But we're literally like the only two Jewish kids I think, in my high school at the time. And when I was in middle school, I was invited to a sleepover. I was in seventh grade. And we were having this really great time, it was a bunch of girls. And we were telling stories and playing games, and you know, just doing girly stuff. And then I don't know what happened. But like, somehow the topic changed to religion. And we were sitting in a circle, and somebody looked at me, and I guess I must have said, I was Jewish. And she looked at me and she said, Well, you killed Jesus. And I kind of sat there and I was like, Wait, what? And everybody kind of nodded in agreement and was like, Yeah, why did you do that? Now, when I tell you, I, my family was not very religious. We were very spiritual, but not very religious. So this was news to me. I had no idea that I killed Jesus. And I was horrified to know that I killed Jesus. But all of a sudden, right, my friends, these people, I was supposed to be at a party with, spending the evening with. were turning on me asking me why I killed Jesus. And the next thing I know, she's getting out her Sunday school book, and showing me a picture of Jesus on the cross hanging there. And it was really, really vivid book, saying, Yeah, you know, you killed Jesus, and that was a horrible thing to do. And everybody's kind of jumping in and this picture is in front of me and I start to cry because I'm one mortified that I killed Jesus. I don't know why. And now I am alone in the situation where I don't have an answer. And these were supposed to be my friends. And I felt completely attacked and completely put on my heels and completely on the defensive. And it happened just like that. And it was, you know, no cell phones back then. And I went upstairs and asked to use the phone, and I'm fully bawling and called my mom and said, You've got to come get me. And she's like, what's going on? And I said, you know, they said, I killed Jesus, and you've just got to come get me. So of course, she was furious and upset and sad for me. But at the end of the day, it was this moment of reckoning for me of like, I thought I was part of this group. But in a moment, it became very, very clear that in their mind, right, this one thing, this one fact, was essentially a deal breaker, right? So I went home and they continued their party and they were in the "in" group and I was out I was heartbroken. And I think one or two of them might have come up to me in the next few days afterwards and said, You know, I'm really sorry, that happened. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what to say. But I learned two things. The first is that not saying something in a moment like that? It doesn't, it doesn't help, right, the fact that you wish you would have said something afterwards, it doesn't do any good. And your thoughts about it afterwards aren't helpful. Um, so that that didn't really help me in any way. It didn't make me feel better, it actually kind of made me feel worse, because I remember all of their faces, I remember what they looked like, you know, as they were all ganging up on me. So the fact that there was remorse afterward, I appreciate it. But at the same time, if you knew it was wrong, in the moment, you knew it was wrong. The second thing is that we had so much more in common than we had that was different. We were all 13 year old little girls, we were all in middle school together, we all lived within three miles of each other. We all loved telling stories, we all loved playing games, we were having a really, really fun time. And there were so many things that that connected us that were similarities. And yet this one thing became THE thing- that was was the big thing, right? And so I realized how you can be polarized by an idea if it's a big idea, and people decide to buy in. I have chosen to live my life looking for the connection. And this is what I'm always encouraging people to do. But at the same time, I think because of the experiences I've had growing up, I understand the pull of wanting to align yourself with the dominant group and the dominant thinking. It's just, it's easier, and it's comfortable. And for a lot of people, it's all they've ever known. Right? It's really, really, truly it's, it's the only thing that many people have ever known when when a leader says this is how it is, or a parent says this is how it is, they just go okay. I question everything. And I think we're in this moment where when people think of taking a side, they are thinking I need to either follow a leader because they've sworn allegiance to a person or to a group, rather than I need to pick the side of truth, I need to pick the side of humanity. And I know what I'm asking is really difficult. Because picking the side of truth means one, you have to find it. And that is increasingly difficult to do right now. But then when you do find it, if you have the courage to find it, you have to be willing to see it and act upon it. Even if it means rethinking your position, even if it means breaking from a group you've aligned yourself with perhaps blindly, even if it means standing alone, because you know that it's the right thing to do. Choosing the side of humanity means you might have to stand up for someone that you don't even know simply on principle. It means valuing the similarities over the differences and, frankly, being brave enough to say so. Two years ago, one of the girls who was at that slumber party, when we were 13, and in seventh grade, found me on Facebook, and she sent me a private message. And she said to me, I don't know if you remember, and you probably don't, because this was so long ago, that I actually feel really strange reaching out to you about this. But I want to apologize to you about something that happened at a sleepover when we were in seventh grade. It has bothered me my entire life. I am sorry for what we did to you that night, it was cruel, it was mean. And I have never stopped regretting my role in it. I hope you can forgive me. And I wrote back immediately and said, I do remember. And of course I forgive you. And the thing is, I forgave all of them a really long time ago. We were 13 For God's sake. But the fact that she carried that forward through her entire life made me realize that when you allow yourself to be caught up in a group, when you allow yourself to be part of something where you fundamentally know as a human, that what you're doing isn't right and and going along with something that at your core, you know, isn't honorable, there's a cost, there's a consequence. And while it is really a great feeling to be part of that group, I can only imagine because I saw their faces, right? They were like really enjoying that moment of solidarity and being together, you know, in their mission to to really let me have it, there is a price for that. And it hurts, it hurts over time. We are not meant to destroy each other. We are here for each other. We are connected. And so I would just say, take a moment. Take a breath. Think about where you are aligning yourself think about what you stand for and who you are. Look at the person next to you, like actually see them. We are not so different. We are on the same side. And if you need to pick a side, pick the side of truth and humanity. It is in front of you. You just need to see it. And when you do, have the courage to stand for it to speak for it and ask the people you love to do the same. It's not easy, but it's worth it. This is Kim Bolourtchi, and you've been listening to Boldly Stated.