Sometimes I wish things were simple – a clear right and a clear wrong.  Never has this wish been more fervent in me than as I do this research on American slavery, particularly at it was practiced by the man who built the plantations where I was raised and now live again. 

The General, as everyone here calls him, was a man of staunch principle.  He believed in Temperance and evangelical Christianity, and he believed that other people should believe the same. When he formed an idea about something – agriculture, education, plantation management – he held tight to that belief, almost rigidly so. And yet, when he encountered a better system, he almost always discarded the old and accepted the new.

He detested (I don’t think that’s too strong a word) the institution of slavery, and yet, he owned, over the course of his lifetime, almost 300 people.  He wanted the “cursed” practice to end, but he didn’t believe in abolition because he thought 1) it could lead to war  2) the enslaved people were not “ready” to live life free and 3) the white people of the States were not ready to live in harmony with black people. Instead, he offered 14 people emancipation on the condition that they signed a Temperance pledge, professed Christianity, behaved by his moral standards, and agreed to emigrate to Liberia.  This was his solution to the dilemma he saw.

For him, complete abolition was unthinkable. It would crush the Southern economy, create a class system where blacks were unable to compete, and launch a full-out war.  To my mind, the first is probably a good thing since the Southern economy was built on slavery. The third concern, well, that was perhaps on the horizon in any case, and perhaps, sadly, it was also necessary. The second concern about class structures and racial inequality, well, he was right.  When you keep people enslaved and uneducated, they can’t compete.  That said, how do you justify perpetuating the system that has created this situation?

He educated some of his slaves. He freed. He did something.  I don’t think he did enough.

In the 21st century, with the Civil Rights Movement behind me and the accepted (by most, at least) equality of people from all races, I want to look back and condemn him.  I want – as a woman who has benefited from the way our society has grown and changed, who has benefited from suffrage and civil rights  – and condemn him for his ignorance.  I want to stand in judgment and pronounce him guilty.  But I find I can’t, at least not completely.

Do I think he was wrong? Absolutely. Do I think his choices horrificly harmed hundreds of people and their descendants? Absolutely.  Do I think he could have made better choices? Absolutely.  Do I think I could have made similar poor choices if I was him? Probably.

I really want to take a righteous stance and say, “The General’s practices were abhorrent.” I really, really want to do that because on so many levels, I believe that to be true. Yet, I cannot because – as misguided as he was – I believe he was trying to make the best choice he could.  It’s just that his best choice was not good enough, not good at all really.

Perhaps the best I can do now is to condemn the practice and offer grace to the man.

It’s so easy to think there was a clear right and a clear wrong, particularly when we look back through time.  But if there’s one thing life and this research have taught me, it’s that there are no easy answers, only our best compromises for what is right at the time. We have to pray that they are enough, and sometimes – sadly – they are not.

When you look back at history, what periods/practices, do you want to condemn? Do you think that we have the right, responsibility, ability to judge the practices and people of the past?  Why or why not? I would really appreciate your answers because I’m still trying to think through these ideas and make my own thinking more clear.  Thank you.

Thank you to everyone who has supported the Kickstarter campaign for my book. I am so blessed by your gifts. I have six days to raise $5,139. If you could bless me again by sharing the campaign or even giving yourself, I would be blown over with gratitude – http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1596635732/you-will-not-be-forgotten. Thank you.

Okay so there are times in my life when I stop and consider my age and the past several weeks have had me thinking about just how old I am.  Every once in awhile I tell Shawn I feel like I am in my twenties and then I wonder how in the world could this year be my 36th year on the planet.  I am not sure what I thought it would feel like but I do realize that the number is so relative.  I am happy being 36 I am content with my life and where I am on my  journey.  I feel smarter at times and completely clueless at other times which is not that different than how I felt at every other age in life.

So  maybe you are wondering what brought about this long look at my age and there are two situations over the past two weeks that made me pause.  The first one was at the mall.  My kids were in the play area with Shawn and there  must have been about a million kids in an area meant for 50 and that means I find any excuse I can to exit the play area for small breaks.  I told Shawn I would be right back and went into the shop next door which has fun hippie clothes I love.  I was walking around enjoying some quiet and this young girl walks in front of me first I was amazed that I could see her butt cheeks because her shorts were so tiny and then I noticed her nylon stocking, and then her neon high tops and although she looked stylish for her age I don’t like see anyone’s butt.   Finally I looked up and noticed she was wearing a head set and before I could stop myself I thought oh my gosh she works here I can’t believe she would wear that to work.  Then I busted out laughing, she probably thought I was weird, but I couldn’t help myself what I really thought in a round about way was I can’t believe kids these days do you see what they are wearing!

My second incident was at IKEA it just opened in our city and sometimes there is a line just to get in the building.  My friend and I with our 3 kids decided to take a trip on a weekday believing people work.  Well it was much better than the weekend we did not have to wait outside but it was a bit overwhelming because there were so many people.  Similar to me Symeon behaves oddly in these types of situations when he is totally over stimulated so needless to say he was having  a difficult time and not acting as I would have hoped.   Well we were in the bedroom area and he was playing with this small cart you could push around and out of no where he saw this girl about twice his size standing there and he walked over and pushed the cart right into her.  I saw this from where I was standing and went right over to him, took the cart, made him apologize, and then set him on time out in the stroller.  The hardest part for me was the look on the little girl’s Mother’s face.  She looked at Symeon like he was the next Charles Manson and she looked at me like I told him to do it.  I apologized to her and she made a comment like okay whatever and I had to bite my tongue and walk away.  You see what was going through  my mind was if her kid was so perfect she should offer classes for the rest of us and then I thought, much to my disgrace, I would really like to ram you with my stroller when I am leaving instead I said sorry and walked away.  I see now at this age that I am a role model for these tiny little people.  I am not proud that I wanted to ram this woman but I am proud of the  way I managed myself in front of my child.   I walked away took a step back and thought for a minute that Symeon learned the message I wanted him to have.  I am at an age in my journey where I am the role model for two small people and they are always watching.

These two situations made me think about my age not in a bad way but mostly in a life perspective way.  I am 36 this is where I am on my life journey and that impacts my perspective on the world.  I have been married, I have moved all over the US, I have traveled, I have worked in lots of positions, and I have birthed children all of these things color my perspective but I don’t need to let them cloud it.  I have to be willing to evaluate how I see the world and recognize with age comes a change in perspective which I hope makes me slower to judge and much quicker to forgive.

“Every time I look out the window and see the truck on the lawn, it makes me so happy,” Brian says.  This, of course, is after we had both had trouble driving it out in the glory that is New Brunswick mud.  Poor Brian had really buried my trusty steed, and despite our best efforts, we really couldn’t get it out.  It took a couple of native Maritimers and a bulldozer to come and help us.  The experience was really stressful to my dear friend, but now, he sees that red Ranger and feels joy and peace.  I like that.

Each night, Brian and his wife Casey sit down with their kids before beds and ask them, “What is your rose?  What is your thorn?”  What is your favorite moment of the day?  What do you wish had gone differently?  It’s their family’s way of helping put things in perspective, give the day some focus, find a blessing in each 24 hours.  I find just hearing about this practice is helping me see the day more positively.  Like Brian, I see the blessing that comes out of the mud.

Yesterday, we took a ferry out to Grand Manan Island, and my hopes were set on seeing the whales that are often spotted on the crossing.  But as we drove down the coast of New Brunswick, the fog settled in, thick and rimey.  We boarded this massive ferry, and I took a seat with a view of the 10 feet of water I could see.  I stared out for a while, and then I dozed off.  When I woke, I took a stroll to the front of the boat, bought some root beer, and a Caramilk and settled in to just watch the water go by.  I felt very peaceful and not at all disappointed.  Somehow, the fog closing off most of the sea to my gaze opened up the trip to me; instead of searching the waves for hints of whales, I just watched the water pass by and felt myself rest.

Sometimes, the best thing that can happen, the rose in the day, is the thing that might, at first, seem to be the worst.  Sometimes, it takes seeing a truck stuck deep in the mud to know the relief that comes when it sits on solid ground.