When to Speak

I'm struggling this week with the question of when to speak out and when to let things go.

Let me explain.

Before church, I had a conversation with an older man who is kind, loves the Lord, and is more giving of his time and effort to our church than most other people combined. He started by saying that the reason I was probably so trim was because I walk back and forth so often moving sound equipment, and then proceeded to tell me a story about a 'colored' woman who walked into an office where he was waiting for the doctor, who had a big butt and large 'bosoms.' And he turned to his wife and said something along the lines of being glad that she didn't turn out that way when she got older.

I think I sort of gave a half laugh, said something about how it's hard to stay in shape, and quickly changed the subject. But it got me thinking, simply because the conversation made me so uncomfortable on so many different levels.

I didn't appreciate that he was making comments on my body. I was a little shocked to hear someone use the term colored. I was really uncomfortable that we were talking about some other woman's body. And the feminist in me was offended that he would say something like that to his wife.

How do I respond to something like this? I know that the story was not meant to make me feel uncomfortable; he was simply making conversation, although it took a turn that I felt was fairly inappropriate. I've always had trouble with confrontation, especially when it comes to older people making comments that I know come from growing up in a different society where different things were politically correct, but where is the line? When do I let things go, with the reasoning that the person didn't mean to be offensive, and when do I speak up to let them know that I don't think they should be saying something like that, either to me or to anyone else?

It seems to me that this sort of issue, like most difficult issues, doesn't have a concrete answer. It also seems like being on staff at church makes maneuvering around these sorts of conversations even more difficult. Where is the line between accepting that people aren't perfect, and will say things that should not be said, and calling them out in love? And does that line change depending on the age of each of those people?

I love spending time with older people, and love that working with the choir allows me to do that, but I've noticed this issue more than once with this particular age group. Each time it happens, whether it's a full conversation like the one this week, or a passing comment from a sweet old former pastor's wife about the musical abilities of 'darkies,' I'm suddenly uncomfortable and completely unprepared for how to respond.

I know this problem doesn't have an easy answer, as much as I would like it to. I guess the best way to navigate is simply with the law of love, of loving my neighbor as I love myself. As I love myself- would I choose to remain ignorant of something I do that is giving offense, or would I rather be informed so that I might change that behavior? And would that change depending on the person giving the advice? Again, no easy answers, just what's on my mind tonight.

Knit-astrophe!

Sooo... this happened a couple of days ago.

Oops.

First, the backstory:
I finished this mitten a few months ago, and realized I didn't have enough yarn to finish the second one. I researched online, and found out the yarn was discontinued.
I decided I wasn't THAT excited about this particular mitten, and figured I could use the first one as a potholder/hot pad.
I did this successfully for several months with no issues.

Skip back to Tuesday. Somehow this happened. Still not entirely sure how. My whole apartment smelled like burning wool for about an hour. Yecch.

Although it's always a little disappointing to me when things happen to items that I've made, I think in the long run it's good for me to be reminded that things are temporary. It doesn't matter how much time I've spent making something; sometimes the hat will be lost, the sweater will get holes, the mitten will be burnt to a crisp (although hopefully, the last one won't happen again).

The reason I make things is not so that they can stay in pristine shape, to be displayed somewhere behind a glass box. I make things so that they can be used. I think this is part of why working in a kitchen is such a mixture of frustration and enjoyment. On the one hand, the work is never finished- people always need another meal, and there will always be more food to make. On the other hand, there will always be new things to try, and a constant stream of people enjoying and using the things I am making for them.

The things I make will not stay perfect forever. They will get worn out, lost, and sometimes destroyed, and this is a good thing. It means I will always have things to make, ways to be creative, and things to give away. Here's to ruined projects.