The concept, "my people," needs clarification. I think of it in terms of recognition, perhaps even a sense of homecoming. But note: Uncle Jerry is hitting on my girlfriend, Aunt Jeanie is stirring up trouble and trying to create factions and dissent, Cousin Cliff is really, really stoned and seems to have wet himself. These aren't the only people in my family (thank God), but they are also my family. I have disagreements with "my people," but they're certain recognizable types of disagreements.
I've also had the experience of welcoming the stranger, and being the stranger who is welcomed. I've gone to places where I'm happy to sit and chat, liked the people very much, but never felt at home. I can see that I'm part of a much larger community--even brother- and sisterhood--but they aren't really "my people" in that sense.
This is an attempt to see a connection beyond my local group, without watering down the sense of belonging. At the same time, it isn't exclusive: there are circumstances in which I might recognize someone as "my people" who I wouldn't normally identify as such. I guess that's why I keep coming back to recognition, and why I want to stress that it isn't simply liking someone (or some group).
Perhaps someone else can explain it better than I... or, more likely, people will disagree. I welcome your comments.
1 comment:
When I went to the Plowshares conference with Brian, there was this wonderfully nutty guy there from somewhere in the southwest. He was shorter than me and skinny, had wispy white hair what poofed out around his head, and never needed a microphone. He'd stand up to ask questions during small groups and the plenary sessions, and they'd always be passionate ones about how we need to lay down on Mother Earth more often to ground ourselves so that static energy doesn't build up in our body, or how we should all wear shoes with natural soles (same reason), or some other bizarre and often unrelated topic. He'd jump up and down in excitement at the microphone while talking, which sometimes made the folks around him antsy.
That man, more than almost anyone else I've met this year, seemed like 'my people,' and I think about him every time I come back to this post and wonder what to write. He was fantastically weird.
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