Really. I feel like we all get caught up in the fight to be “successful,” whether we measure that success in money, in love, in friends, in mountains climbed, whatever. This can lead us, or at least me, to unconsciously rate people as more or less, or, in short, to judge others and myself. Am I failing? I lose courage, energy, I shrink from the world. I forget myself. Am I successful? I become arrogant, “all that,” the world is mine for the taking. I forget others. I feel more or less valuable to the world, or society, depending on my successes or failures. I forget that our value is not something we, or anyone, earns. Rev. William Sloane Coffin, one of my religious figures, wrote that “Our value is a gift, not an achievement.”
My older brother Dylan’s response to an exercise in college hits the nail on the head. The problem was how to determine who would be saved if some catastrophe were imminent and only say, 1 million of 300 million people could survive. Who should be saved? How many doctors? Pilots? Engineers? Obviously ignore the criminals… But Dylan said that it should be 100% random, through and through, for you could never make the call that one person was, or would be more or less valuable than any other. No one ever agreed with him, but I think I do. We should never count ourselves, or others, as more or less valuable. We should never judge.
The reason I’m writing about it is because it hit home with me, in a real sense, just last week. We had our end-of-the-year staff retreat, which was an informal and loose affair. After a year full of many frustrations, more frustrations, miscommunications, misunderstandings, even bitterness and anger, it was a stress free reminder of our common humanity. What? As pretentious sounding as it is, there’s no better way to put it. We’re all humans, we all have our own stories, experiences, and lives to share. This year, although it had its shares of joys, there were times when I was ready to strangle people, I thought them near-sighted, blinded by pride, and failing there fellow humans. I thought them less than what they ought to be. But the retreat was a beautiful reminder of how absurd this was for me to say. How little I really knew of them, who they were, are – their stories. Sure, we’ll continue to evaluate, or judge the other’s priorities, ideas, and decisions (their actions) but I hope we remember never to judge them themselves.
Instead of judging, we should lighten our hearts and award Iggies...
The Iggies, named after Ignatius Loyola, was an idea that was dreamed up about two months ago. It came about when someone commented to Lilly (who works at Xavier) that if there was an award in life for style she would win it (she consistently dresses with more style than anyone on the island). From that, a conversation developed that begged the question “Why aren’t there awards for life?” And so the concept of The Iggies was born – a full-fledged, all-out awards ceremony where every award would honour one person of the Xavier work community (plus Marcos and I, honourary Xavier community mates). Perhaps a very western idea, but, again, a brilliant one.
Everyone agreed and so awards were created, such as “Best Achievement in Cooking” in honour of our off-the-hook chef Ellen Derby, or “Best Musical Score” in honour of Marcos’ guitar and singing talents, or “The Sharp Wit Award” in honour of the quiet, but sharply witty Xavier principal Anne. Then, nominations, then votes, so that come awards night no one but the organizer (AJ) knew who had won what.
The night itself was spectacular. In our way, we decked out the dining hall, Ellen and company made some awesome pizza (there was cheese on island!!!), and the lighting was appropriately adjusted. AJ created an amazing power-point presentation that was projected on a white screen behind a temporary platform (our stage) that gave everything a very professional feel (the nominees are…). And everyone came dressed to the nines – island style (ie. wraps and lavalavas etc.). And we had our awards ceremony. And it was amazing. Fun, entertaining, and quietly affirming of everyone. A beautiful night, a celebration of our differences, our individuality, what makes us unique. It was, in its way, an acknowledgement of mutual respect.
Not much could have been better. Except one thing. I won the Iggie for “Best Subject of the Queen.” Totally sweet. Long live the Queen!
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