Several months ago, I had an important, productive conversation with a colleague.
We were working on a presentation for incoming staff and students (I work at a post-secondary institution as a student advisor for persons who identify as having disabilities, supporting their pursuit of employment opportunities (in the form of paid placements) in inclusive and agile work spaces) and we wanted to explore issues of inclusively, equity, and communication as we compiled our notes for the presentation.
Needless to say, it was a heavy discussion.
We both work with students who identify as having visible and invisible disabilities, and we grapple with the task of creating trainings and content that is meaningful, and inclusive, and deals with important, real-life issues for our students.
During the course of our conversation, my colleague made a great point:
“I think sometimes we are afraid of the power of language. I totally get it, but I struggle with how to have productive conversation about important issues, like disability, when communication causes people to experience fear. Fear of doing or saying the wrong thing. Fear of being perceived wrongly. Fear of being offensive or offended.”
_________________________________________________________________________________
Let me pause and remind us that this blog is based solely on my own experience. The focus here is on disability because my experience allows me to speak comfortably and openly about issues that relate to disability. I believe that this important, productive conversation could also be easily applied to a vast number of deep end issues we face.
Let me also pause to acknowledge the validity of my colleague’s point. It may be the case that many of us are afraid (read: hesitant, uncertain) to dive too deeply into issues we do not identify with and therefore cannot fully comprehend.
There is no judgement here.
Whether you are on the shore, in the surf, wading toward the deep or already battling the waves, I appreciate the beauty and complexity of your journey, and whatever has brought you to this page.
I want to encourage us to embrace the deep end (and our brothers and sisters who bravely swim therein) with an air of openness, acceptance and curiosity.
For my friends out there who are now thinking, “Jenna, I simply cannot accept all things; I cannot be ‘open’ to all things. I will not compromise my beliefs.” I hear you, and I appreciate your perspective.
But, hear me on this:
You do not have to agree with your neighbour in order to love, respect, honour, support and appreciate them.
You, dear one, do not have to give up your fundamental belief in order to love your neighbour - to support and uplift and encourage them - wherever they are at. We can disagree, and still agree to be allies.
An ally walks alongside their neighbour as they struggle. They celebrate with their neighbour on the mountain tops, and weep with them in the valleys. An ally walks alongside their neighbour at their pace and in their time. They do not walk in front, or behind, or assert their own agenda.
An ally journey’s with you, and supports you as you are - not as they feel you ought to be.
I’ll talk more about allyship in a future post. For now, let’s remember the importance of approaching our neighbour from a posture of respect, curiosity and openness.
__________________________________________________________________________________
This journey - life - is full of beautiful complexity and moments for us to challenge ourselves to learn and unlearn; to grow and embrace deep end issues with respect and gentleness.
Our world (at least within my circles) is becoming increasingly conscious of the ways we think about and talk about certain issues. I think this consciousness is incredibly important, and I hope that it is sustained and grown over time; that it ripples through other circles and spaces, creating waves of change.
In the same breath, I know that deep end change creates challenges for folks who are used to (and comfortable with) swimming in the shallow end. For many people, embracing deep end issues also means embracing unfamiliar white caps and swirling storms and wave-tossed waters. It means - perhaps for the first time - embracing a willingness to be turned upside down and backward, floundering and flailing and searching blindly for the water’s surface.
Embracing the deep end - especially for a new swimmer, or perhaps one who has had a previously unpleasant experience in the water - can be difficult. It can be challenging and awkward and sometimes incredibly painful.
Does that mean we should avoid venturing into the deep end? I don’t think so. Just because we are comfortable in the shallow end doesn’t mean that is where we should stay.
It does mean, however, that those of us who are wading out into deeper waters should carry ourselves with respect and gentleness and empathy, appreciating the process of those who are wading in the surf or still sitting on the shore. And visa versa.
__________________________________________________________________________________
As I reflected on my colleague’s comment, I remarked that I hoped people approached me (a person with a disability) from a position of allyship, recognizing and appreciating our shared journey and our lived experience of humanness.
By recognizing the humanness in each of our experiences, we can find common (beautiful, broken, shared) ground from which to form a lasting and meaningful connection.
Practically, what does this look like?
If we embrace every interaction as an opportunity to grow and learn and we approach our neighbour with an air of openness, curiosity and respect then we create space that is safe for authentic connection.
We create space that is not steeped in awkwardness or fear or pain, but rather allows each person to exist as they are, vulnerably and bravely baring each of their broken, beautiful pieces.
I believe that God made you exactly as you are for a Divine purpose. You are beautiful, valued and eternally loved (Psalm 139).
I believe - as we navigate this world and endeavour to learn to swim together - that we can make a difference in the lives of our neighbours by embracing them for who they are, supporting and uplifting and walking alongside them as they pursue their own deep end adventure.
My name is Jenna Lambert. I was born with Cerebral Palsy, a disability which effects mostly my legs and limits my ability to move about independently. I love giraffes and dolphins and pickles and peanut butter and sappy TV shows. My favourite weather is rainy weather, but I never fail to lift my eyelids to the sun. I love to read and sing and smile. My family is my life. I am fiercely protective of my friends. I have a life-giving relationship with Jesus Christ. I am full of faith. I am a sister and a daughter and a girlfriend and a cousin and a niece and a colleague and a friend. I have fears and passions and hopes and dreams and aches and sorrows and joys and pain. I am full of empathy and compassion and anger and resiliency and hope and tragedy and love and complexity.
I am beautifully broken; I am human.
What about you?
What broken, beautiful pieces make up your whole?
I think, if we endeavour to approach one another from a posture of allyship and holistic thinking, embracing one another, respecting our differences and appreciating our shared experiences of humanness, we can create space for growth and ripples of positive change.
We, my friends, can be instrumental in creating a society that embraces acceptance and inclusion rather than judgement and exclusion. I may not look like you, or talk like you, or walk like you, but our broken and beautiful experiences make us neighbours journeying together, whether sitting together on shore, wading together in the surf, or swimming together in the sea.
We are stronger together, you and me. We need not fear one another, rather embrace one another as we pursue the power and beauty and depth and complexity of the deep.
Open, honest dialogue can be hard, but I believe it’s worth it. We grow when we are critical of our own thoughts, and when we are willing to challenge certain thought patterns or ways of being. We grow when we are willing to listen. We grow when we are willing to educate. We grow when we are willing to learn (and unlearn). We grow when we are willing to challenge ourselves to embrace our neighbours who are different from us, and whose experiences are different from our experiences.
If you are bravely stepping off the shore but are worried about facing the deep end alone, remember we are all human. I can only speak from my own experience, but I would encourage you to embrace this journey - this life - with justice, mercy and humility (Micah 6:8).
Get to know your neighbour. Love them. Listen to them. Walk beside them. And if you make a misstep, or start to walk at your own pace, humbly acknowledge your error, and try again.
We are not perfect. No one learns to swim on the first (or second, or third) day of lessons. Be kind to yourself, and embrace the process. Your neighbour will be glad you did, and I am certain you will be too.
💕