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Where is the room for individual dignity?
Most of us never intend to turn someone else
into the "other," but the exigencies of life
have a way of wringing out individual dignity
from our work. We can find ourselves running so
fast to reach the finish line that we lose
sight of why even started to run. We use
certain words and phrases as short-hand, only
to lose their meaning. We go all out to win
vital arguments, only to create needless
divisions that fail to reflect people's
everyday experiences. How in your own efforts
to create change are you making room for
individual dignity?
In my own memory, it was around the time of
Ronald Reagan that our nation took a sharp
detour deep into the land of celebrating the
power of the individual and shoving individual
dignity to the side. Of course, the
"individual" has always played a central role
in American history and myth, but since Reagan
we have increasingly viewed the individual as
the almighty consumer, the all-knowing
political force, the free-agent without
commitments, the sovereign entity.
In our celebration of the individual, the
reference point is me, myself and I -- even if
it means turning away from others, or talking
about people in ways that keep them at arms'
length.
- Thus we talk about "choice" in education, or other reforms, but often do not speak in terms of children and their vulnerabilities and feelings and real needs. The child gets lost in all the political speak and banter, the numbers and charts, the official statements and programs. And yet, we all know what it means to be a kid.
- We talk about long-term health care and
trot out hurting people as props in our
unfolding public drama, but somehow we do not
talk about what a care-giver truly goes
through and the mundane supports that they
need to make it day-to-day. And yet, it's not
too hard to envision yourself in this kind of
situation.
- Or, we talk about patriotism, as I did on Wisconsin Public Radio yesterday, as if its meaning resides within the confines of an ideological framework, a so-called battle between the right and left. And yet, we fail to see that each of us in everyday life is in search of ways to express our love of country, engage with one another, and get on with the unfinished work before us.
A fellow guest on the public radio program
yesterday was Air Force Reserve Major David
Frakt who in June made the closing argument in
a high-profile Guantanamo Bay case. In reading
over his closing argument I was especially
moved by these words:
No one is "undeserving" of humane treatment. It is an unmistakable lesson of history that when one group of people starts to see another group of people as "other" or as "different," or an "undeserving" as "inferior," ill-treatment inevitably follows.
"Ill-treatment" can be defined in many
ways. The Major was referring to torture. But
while torture is an extreme example, everyday
there are abridgments of individual dignity.
Just this morning I heard a radio ad for
listeners to donate funds to help "needy
people." Just what would it mean to be part of
the "needy people?" Must you show an
identification card at the movies, wear only
certain brands of clothing, attach a scarlet
letter to your arm. How is it that we see
other people's lives?
I can't imagine that most people
intentionally squeeze out room for individual
dignity. But I would say that we have lost a
certain consciousness for it. If we talk
about individual dignity, we do so only for a
moment, before returning to business as usual.
Or maybe we see something on television that
touches on human indignity and makes us cry,
only we quickly dry our eyes and "pull
ourselves together." The problem we face is
hidden in plain view. Will we see it? What
will we do?
My point isn't that we should stop fighting
for important causes. We must keep going. But
under what conditions, I ask? We can achieve
our goals but fail to make a difference in
people's lives. We can have a great public or
social mission but not work truly in the spirit
of people. We can be standing right next to
someone, and still not see or hear them.