It was the Cream of Tartar that led us over the bridge into the Land of Ying.
Eleanor had decided that she wanted to ‘do the dissolving experiment again’, this time venturing into compounds more exotic than simple salt. So we prepared our laboratory and in the pitch black of winter (roughly 7:13 in the morning) we measured, stirred, mixed and observed. We recorded the results of our experiments in two long columns – the substances that dissolved completely, albeit more slowly in cold water than hot, and those that remained unincorporated. Science lesson: some things dissolve, some don’t. extension lesson: life is binary, an either / or scenario. And our day would have progressed just as countless other days had, unfolding in ordinary ways, except she perused the spice drawer one final time and slowly, with careful consideration, chose the cream of tartar. In the cold water it did not dissolve, nor did it persist as a lump of powder. It spread throughout the glass in uniform suspension, creating a lovely, cloudy, pearlescent liquid.
In that moment, our entire analysis magically transformed. The opaque white water stood as a profound reminder to not set our expectations of life into the rigidly restrained categories of yes /no. Suddenly before us was an invitation to explore all of the areas in life that fill the in-between. We accepted the offer and delved into a discussion of the beauty of gray, the place between black and white. Why, for example, does St. Nicholas (clearly a paragon of goodness) smoke a pipe? Why, in the Little House on the Prairie books, does Ma so revile Native Americans?
The human condition is a complex and nuanced state. Yet as parents, in an effort to extol the virtues of our own value system, we often simplify and even vilify those who hold opposing beliefs as bad people. While a bumper sticker can proclaim a pithy sentiment, it is often a shallow, sweeping generalization that minimizes an entire group of people. It gets a laugh, but at what cost? We need to show our children that those we love and respect make contrasting choices. Even more, people we don’t know, people with whom we mightily disagree, are good folks who see the world from a different perspective and live accordingly. (please know I recognize there are those who are off the end of the continuum of culturally accepted behaviors and beliefs). Respectful differentiation is a complex practice that is rare in a world full of sound bites and snap judgments, hatred and self-anointed halos.
Respectful differentiation means we see the subtlety and texture of people’s lives. We acknowledge the depth of their humanity. As a tool, it allows all of us to live our own authentic lives while engaging in civil ways with those who hold varying beliefs. The Land of Ying is a place we can see with our third eye, a place we can reach when we stop, take a deep breath, and remember that ultimately, we are all one. Not yin. Not yang. The Land of Ying.
