Many of  you know of my previous work as an internal diversity consultant in a conservative Fortune 50 company.   Few concepts moved me as deeply during my training as the concept of “white privilege”.   Having grown up in a predominately white environment in NW Ohio, I was all too aware as a child of how it plays out, but  I never was able to put it into words.

Tim Wise, a self-described “angry white male”,  was recently introduced to me by a dear friend.  Over the next few posts, I will be sharing some of his views.

It’s time for us all to THINK.  Not react, not be led, but to THINK for ourselves.  Inside, we know the truth.  Own it.  Face it.  Then be the change you wish to see.

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A BUZZFLASH GUEST CONTRIBUTION
by Tim Wise, www.TimWise.org

For those who still can’t grasp the concept of white privilege, or who are constantly looking for some easy-to-understand examples of it, perhaps this list will help.

White privilege is when you can get pregnant at seventeen like Bristol Palin and everyone is quick to insist that your life and that of your family is a personal matter, and that no one has a right to judge you or your parents, because “every family has challenges,” even as black and Latino families with similar “challenges” are regularly typified as irresponsible, pathological and arbiters of social decay.

White privilege is when you can call yourself a “fuckin’ redneck,” like Bristol Palin’s boyfriend does, and talk about how if anyone messes with you, you’ll “kick their fuckin’ ass,” and talk about how you like to “shoot shit” for fun, and still be viewed as a responsible, all-American boy (and a great son-in-law to be) rather than a thug.

White privilege is when you can attend four different colleges in six years like Sarah Palin did (one of which you basically failed out of, then returned to after making up some coursework at a community college), and no one questions your intelligence or commitment to achievement, whereas a person of color who did this would be viewed as unfit for college, and probably someone who only got in in the first place because of affirmative action.

White privilege is when you can claim that being mayor of a town smaller than most medium-sized colleges, and then Governor of a state with about the same number of people as the lower fifth of the island of Manhattan, makes you ready to potentially be president, and people don’t all piss on themselves with laughter, while being a black U.S. Senator, two-term state Senator, and constitutional law scholar, means you’re “untested.”

White privilege is being able to say that you support the words “under God” in the pledge of allegiance because “if it was good enough for the founding fathers, it’s good enough for me,” and not be immediately disqualified from holding office–since, after all, the pledge was written in the late 1800s and the “under God” part wasn’t added until the 1950s–while believing that reading accused criminals and terrorists their rights (because, ya know, the Constitution, which you used to teach at a prestigious law school requires it), is a dangerous and silly idea only supported by mushy liberals.

White privilege is being able to be a gun enthusiast and not make people immediately scared of you. White privilege is being able to have a husband who was a member of an extremist political party that wants your state to secede from the Union, and whose motto was “Alaska first,” and no one questions your patriotism or that of your family, while if you’re black and your spouse merely fails to come to a 9/11 memorial so she can be home with her kids on the first day of school, people immediately think she’s being disrespectful.

White privilege is being able to make fun of community organizers and the work they do–like, among other things, fight for the right of women to vote, or for civil rights, or the 8-hour workday, or an end to child labor–and people think you’re being pithy and tough, but if you merely question the experience of a small town mayor and 18-month governor with no foreign policy expertise beyond a class she took in college–you’re somehow being mean, or even sexist.

White privilege is being able to convince white women who don’t even agree with you on any substantive issue to vote for you and your running mate anyway, because all of a sudden your presence on the ticket has inspired confidence in these same white women, and made them give your party a “second look.”

White privilege is being able to fire people who didn’t support your political campaigns and not be accused of abusing your power or being a typical politician who engages in favoritism, while being black and merely knowing some folks from the old-line political machines in Chicago means you must be corrupt.

White privilege is being able to attend churches over the years whose pastors say that people who voted for John Kerry or merely criticize George W. Bush are going to hell, and that the U.S. is an explicitly Christian nation and the job of Christians is to bring Christian theological principles into government, and who bring in speakers who say the conflict in the Middle East is God’s punishment on Jews for rejecting Jesus, and everyone can still think you’re just a good church-going Christian, but if you’re black and friends with a black pastor who has noted (as have Colin Powell and the U.S. Department of Defense) that terrorist attacks are often the result of U.S. foreign policy and who talks about the history of racism and its effect on black people, you’re an extremist who probably hates America.

White privilege is not knowing what the Bush Doctrine is when asked by a reporter, and then people get angry at the reporter for asking you such a “trick question,” while being black and merely refusing to give one-word answers to the queries of Bill O’Reilly means you’re dodging the question, or trying to seem overly intellectual and nuanced.

White privilege is being able to claim your experience as a POW has anything at all to do with your fitness for president, while being black and experiencing racism is, as Sarah Palin has referred to it, a “light” burden.

And finally, white privilege is the only thing that could possibly allow someone to become president when he has voted with George W. Bush 90 percent of the time, even as unemployment is skyrocketing, people are losing their homes, inflation is rising, and the U.S. is increasingly isolated from world opinion, just because white voters aren’t sure about that whole “change” thing. Ya know, it’s just too vague and ill-defined, unlike, say, four more years of the same, which is very concrete and certain.

White privilege is, in short, the problem.

Tonight, I watched with tears in my eyes as Barack Obama accepted his party’s nomination for president.  

I cried for a lot of reasons.  But mostly because on the 45th anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. ’s famous “I have a dream” speech, a man of color, a bi-racial man at that, has a real chance at occupying our nation’s highest office.

There was a time in his lifetime, that people who looked like him were denied the right to vote.  That children who look like his daughters were educated in segregated schools.  That people who looked like him had to ride in the back of the bus.  

Tonight I watched the dreams of my grandmother, who marched with Dr. King in Alabama, come to fruition.  I saw the dream that my mother, a politician in her own right, come to pass.  I saw the hope my daddy held in his heart, for a country that still doesn’t live up to it’s ideals, pay off.

With Senator Obama’s nomination, I realized that the fears my parents and grandparents had living as black people in this country, never put their dreams to sleep.

As I sat and watched Stevie Wonder sing, I could feel my mother, father and grandmother’s spirits.  Their strength, their love, their hope, surrounded me.  Not only because of this historic moment, but as a reminder that although I may be afraid, so afraid that I cannot access my dreams today, that the dreams I had for my life cannot be put to sleep by that fear.  And to help me decide that tonight was the night for me to start dreaming again.

Tonight was a reminder to us all, that dreams, especially the unlikely ones, can come true.

Dream BIG and Live More BOLDLY!

Lisa

“Which would you rather have, Lisa?  To be right or have peace?”

I remember the 1st time a coach asked me that question.  I laughed aloud. 

DUH.

To be right, stupid.  Of course.

As my corporate job continued it’s life-sucking drain,  I remember standing on the curb many evenings waiting for my husband and thinking, “I just want peace.”

Back then, I believed the only way I was going to have it was to quit or die.  And trust me, I was much closer to choosing death than walking out the door on my own.

Long before my career turned into a nightmare, I was fascinated by the concept of “peace.”  World peace.  Divine peace. Inner peace.   It all sounded good.   But if you are anything like me, you may secretly believe that it’s not really attainable…at least not in our lifetime.

But, in my quest to be “right”, I refused to accept that I could not find peace for myself.   I kept looking, ’cause by God, I was going to prove that at least I could have it.  I have been amazed, however, by the way I have found it.

For “fun”,  I watch Christian televison with my daughter.  I don’t mean to mock anyone here, but I left organized religion behind some years ago.  Since I live in Republican/conservative Christian territory, I am constantly around people who have a deep belief in Jesus and Christianity as the only path to God.

So I watch Christian TV to “train” myself to be open-minded and tolerant of beliefs that run counter to my own.

This experiment has had mixed results..at best.  Until today.  Ironically during a show called, “Breakthrough.”  (You have to love the Universe’s sense of humor.)

At the beginning of the show, the pastor was ranting and raving about a bill in Congress that may require networks to show differing points of view.  He asked, “How would you feel if I had to share the stage with a Muslim cleric or someone from Planned Parenthood?..”  As he spoke, you could see his absolute, ferverent belief that such a thing would lead to our destruction..blah, blah, blah.   He was trying to convince viewers that if they were given access to an alternative point of view, America as we know it, would fall into ruin.

I just sat there.  And laughed.  

And then I got up and offered a silent blessing.  And actually meant it.

You see, that’s what he believes.  And he would die for that belief.  And today, I realized that I could get myself all in a tizzy about what I see as his fear, intolerance or just plain stupidity or..hmm..I could choose to honor his belief and choose to be a peace.

It was eye-opening and HA! and major “breakthrough.”

Everyday we encounter people who don’t see the world as we do.  Because they see thru different filters, they have developed different beliefs.  And those beliefs, even the ones others may deem as “destructive” or “evil” some how, in some way, are serving that person.

And they serve you and me, too.

Because each time we are confronted with an opposing point of view, we get the opportunity to choose.  Do I want to be right?  Or do I want to feel peace?

Arguing and trying to convince the other person doesn’t make you feel good.  Self-righteous.  Yes.   But really, do you feel good in your spirit after “winning” an argument?

I learned today that I could honor his belief and choose to honor myself by making the choice to smile, bless him, and find my peaceful place.   There really is no “right” or “wrong,” my friends.  It’s all in your perception.  I get that now.

So today, I invite you to join with me in choosing peace.  Instead of vehemently defending your position with someone, say, “Hmm…I see your point.  Thank you for giving me a different perspective.”  And really mean it.

Practiced enough, I guarantee that you’ll experience something that feels so good, your arguing days will become a thing of the past. 

It begins with one step.  A commitment to choose PEACE above all else.

Are you with me?

Let’s choose PEACE.

A couple of days ago, I was contacted by a potential client who mentioned that she’d looked me up on the web and found my blog.

I was shocked at my reaction.

This blog?  You mean, Lisa-Unmasked?  OMG. 

I was mortified.

And then, I had to laugh at myself.

As you know, I don’t keep this blog for business reasons nor do I expect anyone to actually read it.  I am flattered that people do and I love the feedback.

But I write this blog to honor myself.  For far too long, I have lived in fear of what others thought.  While that didn’t stop me from opening my mouth, the fear made me question my worth and even my right, to speak candidly and express how a situation appeared to me or made me feel.

I write this this blog to honor the part of me that refused to die, even when I and so many others, tried to kill her.

So, my reaction to this woman “finding” me was surprising.  And then, pretty damned funny.

In some way, I am still hiding.  Still afraid of what others will think or how they’ll react by seeing me–raw and naked.  Lisa-Unmasked isn’t meant to be “pretty” or “perfect.”  It’s meant to be ALL me.

And there I was, frightened that someone I didn’t know had found me.   Seen me.

HA!

After I stopped laughing at my reaction, I stopped for a minute and honored that part of me that is still afraid of being out here.  I spoke to her like a little girl who is afraid of the dark or of monsters in her closet.   And together, we turned on the lights and discovered, there is nothing to fear when we are true to ourselves.  When we let the world see us- when we see ourselves - perfect in our imperfections, then we no longer show up “less than” in order to make someone else feel better in our presence.  When we like “us”, it stops mattering if “they” like us.

Loving yourself, anyway, is the greatest gift you can give yourself…and the world.  For when we can love ourselves completely, we can allow others to be who they are and love them..anyway..just as they are.

And do you think that might contribute to peace on earth?? 

Oh, by the way….she hired me.

For years I have debated with myself about whether God actually listens, much less speaks to me.  I know that those doubts stem from the heartache and disappointments I’ve experienced because in the midst of such drama, I feel as if I’m alone.

As my spiritual journey went off the beaten path down a steep, unpaved, narrow mountain “road”, I ve come to see that many of us spend all this time “talking” to God, but few of us take the time to listen.  I wanted God to speak to me in a way that I understood, and when that didn’t happen, I could dismiss prayer and all other forms of communication as bogus.

The truth that I have uncovered for myself–God speaks to us ALL the time.

So the question isn’t whether God is listening to you.  The question is:  Are you listening to God?

A few years ago while in Connecticut, I heard a voice.  Turns out it was a tree.  Yes, a tree.  

 After I realized that I wasn’t crazy, I found that trees and some plants actually “talk” to me.  Some just laugh at the way I’m behaving, others offer comfort and still others, just ask me to stop and take notice.   As I got used to this phenomenon, I decided to ask my one and only houseplant if it talked and whether she had a name. (I have NO idea what this plant is and that I haven’t killed it is PROOF that miracles happen.)   She laughed at me, said her name was Astrid and wondered if I was ever going to get around to listening to her.   See, I talked to “it” all the time.  I just never took the time to hear her.

In the midst of my financial crisis, I’ve taken to writing to ease the pain, but never did I actively seek for signs that God was trying to tell me something.  I was angry and distraught at the loss of my livlihood and all the things I’d worked for.  But there was a deeper message–one I apparently wasn’t ready to hear.

Until I saw the snake.

Now, I have lived 43 years without ever seeing a snake up close.  Yet there it was at my back door.  Over the past few weeks, I’ve seen several.  I just have to look out my window.  Many of you reading this know that I freaked out and have had many a meltdown over them.  Yet you encouraged me to look for the meaning.   And I have.

As I started to embrace the snakes, then spiders began showing up.  Another major yuck for me.   This time, instead of freaking out, I stopped and said, “what are you trying to tell me.  I am listening.”

The answers came quickly.

Swift change is coming into my life.  It is time to let go of the old me and accept and love the new me.   I’ve had to “shed the skin” of all the illusions of my former life because I was not living a life that was created from my soul’s greatest intention.  The spider helped me see that as I bridge my past and future, that the strength that I need to draw upon is at my core-my center.  From that authentic place, the life my soul has intended all along can be created. 

And like the spider who trusts that the web it has created will support it, I too, can trust that living from my center, from my soul, will provide me with all the love,  power, courage, and sustenance I will ever need.

God is speaking to you in so many ways. 

Are you listening?

I was talking to a colleague in California yesterday who told me she’d just paid over $4/gal to fill up her car. 

Wow.

She then began relating a story to me that she’d read that people are beginning to sell possessions in order to buy gas and groceries for their families.

Wow.

I’ve never been interested in politics because one of my core values is AUTHENTICITY.   At least in our country, you can’t be authentic and be a successful politician.

But the drama of the last 8 years unfolded as my spiritual walk took a major detour.  I’ve challenged everything I thought to be true about myself and the world, left my job, lost material “security” and several “friends,” to find myself in a space that is more loving, more kind, more AUTHENTIC than I ever imagined. 

Trust me, all of those “losses” could have stopped me dead in my tracks.   And many times, they did.   But I never lost sight of the dream that I could love myself unconditionally, NO MATTER WHAT.

I’m not 100% there and maybe that’s too much to ask for 1 lifetime.  I won’t dare declare, “Mission: Accomplished.”

Which leads me back to the current state of affairs in the US.  

This isn’t a freakin’ election about abortion, gay marriage, Jeremiah Wright, black, white or whatever. 

It’s about our future.  It’s about our children.  It’s about taking steps towards actualizing the potential in ALL of us.

And yes, that means facing up to the fact that even in “the land of the free and the home of the brave, ” EQUAL access to opportunities does not exist. 

It’s about accepting the brutality our country has inflicted on our own citizens as well as people around the world along with shining our brilliance more brightly.

We’ve done a lot of things that have lifted up humanity.  And many things that haven’t.

It’s time to stop wrapping ourselves up in the flag and hiding behind beliefs that someone else handed you (and you readily accept) and be of SERVICE.   It’s time to stop judging and condemning and claiming superiority.  It’s time to realize that we have a responsibility to EACH OTHER.  

And the only way I know how to do that, is to start with YOU.  When you stop making yourself “wrong”, when you stop condemning yourself for all the things you did or didn’t do, when you stop believing that when you lose weight, or have a better job, or get bigger boobs or less wrinkles, or more money or whatever it is you use to make yourself feel less than, THEN we can move toward healing our country and our world.

This isn’t about Jeremiah Wright, or the war on terror or whose God is bigger and badder.

It’s about YOU deciding to become your own source of light and love.  And when you do that, the compassion that you have for yourself, will fill you up and overflow and naturally make the world a better place.  Because you’ll be choosing from LOVE, not fear.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.

Choosing from fear will continue this cycle in ways I’m too afraid to imagine.

Don’t let yourself become distracted. 

The world needs you.

I’m absolutely scattered this morning.

I woke up tired, intending to go see my sister in the hospital, but realized that I was too tired to drive 5 hours, much less drive back.  I feel like a loser.

I haven’t heard from my husband yet today after he worked 12 hours and then drove to Green Bay, arriving some time after 1am and I’ m worried.

So, I’ve piddled around this morning, watching TV, drinking coffee, trying to write, talking to my daughter in hopes that I’ll somehow “get it together” and be productive today.

Then my reminder message came up, “What do you need?”

I set this reminder message up months ago as a way for me to check in with myself.  Most days, I ignore it.  I’m too busy.

And that would explain the results or lack thereof I am experiencing in my life.

Asking yourself that question and listening allows you to see where your thoughts are.  And where your thoughts go,  your attention and actions follow.  And since most people are often thinking about what’s NOT working in their lives or what they DON’T want, it’s no surprise why many of us are so unhappy.

So, what do you need?

When I paid attention to the message today, I came to the blog to write.  I NEED this blog.  It isn’t for YOU, per se.  I have this blog for ME.  

I have something to say.   It no longer matters if anyone agrees or even cares.  I had to start listening to ME.  And the voice has said to me, over and over and over again to write.  So I am.

What do you need?

I need to sit in silence for a few minutes and honor the moment.  I need to remind myself that I am worthy and lovable.  I need to do something loving for ME. 

What do you need?

What you give yourself is what you give to others.  How you treat yourself shows others how you want to be treated.

Are you getting what you need? 

If not, start NOW by giving it to yourself.

Yesterday was my birthday.  The outpouring of love was overwhelming and something I don’t take for granted.  Connection is really what my life’s work is about.  It’s the fuel that drives me.  I am grateful beyond words for the connections I’ve made in the last 43 years.

One connection that I have that I rarely celebrate is with one of my sisters.  We are adopted but biologically share the same father.  We were born 25 days apart in adjacent counties.  She was born to a married white woman who had several other children.  Me, to a 15 year old Mexican immigrant.  Dad clearly didn’t discriminate. 

No wonder I was a diversity professional.

Anyway, growing up, we were like “twins.”  But in our teenage years we took different paths and our lives couldn’t be any more different if we’d been born on different planets.

Friday, April 5, my 43 year old sister had a heart attack.

She is still in ICU, fighting for her life.  The prospect of losing her doesn’t make me sad.  I have said all I needed to say, long ago.  But for her, I want to share a funny story, that I hope energetically, will bring her some laughter and peace.

One day when I was about 3 or 4, , I asked my sister to come out to the garage with me and look in Daddy’s refrigerator.  He kept worms in there, so I was always afraid they’d jump out at me or something. She wasn’t afraid of worms, so having back-up was cool.

We found some ”grape juice” in there and sat down with these itty bitty glasses to drink some.  We didn’t want Daddy to know we’d been in there and we really just wanted a sip.

I don’t remember much after that until Mom came out.  She was ticked.  I was laughing my ass off and my sister was crying.  Mom demanded to know what we were doing, ’cause apparently, she’d been calling us for awhile. 

My sister, still crying, say’s, “Lisa made me have ‘munnion.”  

Yep, we had our own communion, but what we thought was grape juice was actually homemade wine!

We were stupid drunk, but all Mom could do was clean us up and put us to bed until we slept it off.    

As you can imagine, communion was never the same.

Every time we told that story, my sister would just laugh and laugh.  I hope she’s laughing now.

Leah, no matter what you decide, whether you choose to stay or join up with Mom and Dad, I love you.  And ‘munnion will be waiting for you, either way.

I encourage you to take a minute today and share a laugh with someone you love.  And say a prayer for my sister.  Thanks.

Love, Lisa

I’m taking a business class for the next several weeks and last night was given this assignment (estimated to take 5-8 HOURS) to really explore what makes me unique.  I’m to discover what my talents are so that I can articulate what sets me apart from every other coach/consultant out there.

I freaked.

I’ve been here before and refused to do the work.  The “lie” I have told myself is that I’m not good at anything.  There is nothing unique, nothing special, nothing extraordinary about me.  If there were, why did I hear almost daily for 15 years in my job all the things that were wrong with me?

I won’t get into all the reasons I attracted those people and why it was necessary for me to have those experiences.  It happened.  I learned.  And have moved on.

But last night brought up all sorts of fears.  So, I stopped the instructor and asked the group for support.  Basically, I told them, that without some encouragement, I will quit and go home and continue to wallow in my “not enoughness.”

The response was overwhelming.

The support that came from those women, even this morning, brings tears to my eyes.  I literally felt like I was being group hugged and that somehow, each would offer support in a way that felt good to them.  But bottom line, they’d be there.  (BTW–this was the 1st class and these women are complete strangers to me.)

But that’s not even the best part.

I cried and got all choked up as I asked for help.  I put my fears and insecurities on the table.  I was raw and vunerable.

And then one person said, how moved she was by my honesty and vulnerability.  That for her, the key to a successful life was being open, honest and allowing oneself to be vunerable.  It was so important to her to be surrounded by people who were willing to do what I’d done.  She was touched to her core.

Now, I’m sure I don’t have to tell a few of you, that on more than one occasion, my honesty and vunerability sent people running in the other direction.  Those that stayed would tell me how brutal I was or that I was simply too sensitive.  Rarely was I ever applauded for “keepin’ it real.”

But last night, a total stranger, changed all that.  5 amazing women that I have not and may never meet face-to-face,  allowed me the space to be who I am.  And then thanked me for it. 

As I write this now, I realize that I am closer to my dreams than I ever imagined.  I am consistently attracting women into my business and into my life who know and appreciate the power of acknowledging someone for who they ARE.

If not for last night, I may have continued down this path not realizing that I was on the right road after all.

Who can you acknowledge today?

And what can you acknowledge about yourself?

I know you rock.  And I LOVE you for it!

Before I went to bed last night, I wrote in my journal that “I hate god” and essentially told god to f- off.

And yes, I woke up alive and well today.

The truth of the matter is that I hate myself. 

I hate myself for the drama I’ve created in my life.

I hate myself for believing what other people said about me as TRUTH.

I hate myself for doubting my intuitive abilities and believing that there was something “wrong” with me.

I hate myself for trying to be something I wasn’t, just so others would like me.

I hate myself for spending 15 years at a job that I knew DAY 1 was not a place for me.

And most of all, I hate myself for ever believing that I wasn’t beautiful, magnificent, worthy and perfect JUST AS I AM. 

I’ve spent too long living a lie and the pain is almost more than I can bear. 

At 43 years old, I am starting over again.  In a new place, leaving behind a life of comfort and familiarity.

That comfort and familiarity came at great cost.  The price was even higher when I decided I could find it outside of society’s definition  of success.

But the price of not hearing my own soul far outweighed the loss of my financial and material stability.

Because I listened so long to others, I don’t know who I am.

And that sucks.

And I’m pissed off.  at god.  and myself.

I’ve made my life harder than it ever had to be because I drowned out the voice of my soul. 

I realize that god doesn’t make life hard.  We do.  We have been taught that in order to be accepted and approved of by others, including god, we have to do, be or say certain things.  If not, we are punished.  Rejected, ridiculed, scorned or even condemned to eternal damnation.

C’mon.

Do you think the people telling you that you have to be a certain way don’t have an agenda of their own?  Who really benefits from all of the “shoulds” placed on you?  I’m not saying there isn’t a place for rules and laws, but perhaps we should spend more time questioning instead of rolling over in compliance believing “they” know more about how we should live our lives than we do.

They don’t.  It’s time we stop giving our power away. 

And it’s time I stop giving my power away to ANYTHING outside of me.  It’s time to get to know ME and listen to the voice of my soul.

That’s what makes life “easy” and it’s the way we are meant to live.

My new “rules”

show up.

trust all is well.

then live like I believe that with every fiber of my being.

Kids do that until we “rule” it out of them.  It’s called “play.”

Years and years of following someone else’s  rules has left my body severely unbalanced, my sense of humor non-existent, and most importantly, left me hating myself.

god made it easy.

i made it hard.

The time has come to question more and do less.  The time has come to examine and re-examine my own  beliefs, to see if they are serving my best and highest good.  Not someone else’s ego.  The time has come to create a life that reflects who I REALLY am and not what anyone else would “approve” of.

It isn’t about them.  

THIS IS ABOUT ME.

I encourage you to create your own rules.  Trust your own instincts.  God wants you to live OUT LOUD in a way that only you can.  I cannot express your essence through me.  Only you can express you. 

And today, I’m going to express me and play.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

pissed off and playing anyway….

lisa