The Courage to Not Be Divisive

It’s always amazed me that my parents moved their young family to the Philippines in 1970. They had kids that were 6 years-old, 4 years-old and I was 6 months-old and they moved to SE Asia in the middle of the Vietnam War. But they described the US at that time as feeling as if it was tearing itself apart. Not only was the Vietnam War in full swing and but the Civil Rights movement was front and center. My parents were participating in marches for Civil Rights while my dad was a pastor in a church in a suburb of Buffalo, NY that was almost entirely white.

But in a funny fluke, a community organizer that they’d met in New York, Saul Alinsky, also happen to go to the Philippines to do some work. His modus operandi was to organize groups to come together to work for the change they wanted. When it came to teaching them how to protest, he often picked a soft target so they would have an easy first win.

As it happened, Saul Alinsky picked the church that my dad was leading in Manilla as his soft target. He wanted the church to sign some petition for rights that the church was mostly aligned with but the agreement went a little far so the elders of the church wouldn’t sign it. Alinsky packed up a bus of protestors and they showed up on a Sunday morning with signs that said, “Leon is a Liar” and started picketing the church.

When my dad told me this story about ten years ago, he was chuckling as he described an usher that tried to keep the protestors from coming into the worship service. He told the usher to let them in – it was church after all. But my dad recalled that he couldn’t help but fixate on them in the front row as he preached, and nervously wondered what they’d do.

Turned out the protestors did nothing. And in the next week, the church and Alinsky’s organization came to an agreement, and they signed.

But talking with my dad about it 40 years after it happened, it clearly made an impression on him. At the time we talked, his advocacy had moved on and he was supporting a group working for land rights in the middle East. The motto of that group that greatly impressed my dad was “We refuse to be enemies.

One of my siblings has at times maligned my dad for not being smart. It’s taken me years, and a lot of relationships with people that I have naturally affinity for and those that I don’t, to understand some of these dynamics. My conclusion is that sometimes people believe it’s a sign of discernment or sophistication when they don’t approve of others. And on the flip side, people like my dad, who generally tried to love and understand others, seem simple, and maybe even too idealistic to be real.

The conversations I had with my dad when we sat down to record his stories and all the work I’ve done to understand him have convinced me that it was very much real. There were definitely people that got his goat – and when they did, he did the very hard work to lean in and understand them. He put a lot of energy into refusing not to be enemies.

I walked away from those conversations understanding the courage it takes not to be divisive or to buy into the talking points that create “us” and “them” on any issue. It wasn’t that my dad liked every person he met, but he tried damn hard to love them. Nothing simple or stupid about that.

For more on my delightful dad and the other wisdom I gleaned from him about how to be expansively loving, I’ve written a book, Finding My Father’s Faith. For more musing on practice values, I’ve written a post on my personal blog today, The Dog Ate My Homework


42 thoughts on “The Courage to Not Be Divisive

  1. As you probably know, Wynne, Alinsky was especially well known in Chicago. You might also know of Eugene Debs, who spoke against US entry into WWI and was jailed for it. From jail, he ran against Woodrow Wilson for President.

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  2. Oh. Oh, my heart. This is another choked-up-with-resonance-as-I-read post. There’s so, so much I love here, but the beauty of “We refuse to be enemies” gets right to the heart of it. So grateful to see this piece of your dad–and you–in this beautiful post.

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  3. Your wonderfully empathetic dad was able to value the feelings of others above his own and treat them with the respect he himself deserved. He must have been a fabulous mentor to anyone he had dealings with. Thank you for sharing his story. 🙂

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  4. There is something truly powerful about listening to understand. I would even argue it takes a higher level of wisdom, discernment, and open-mindedness–so far from simple and rote interactions. Your father was such a special man.

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    1. Listening to understand – I love that you bring that idea forward, Erin. I think you’re right that it does happen at a higher level and that it is hard to do so it doesn’t happen reflexively. Thank you for this insightful comment!! ❤ ❤ ❤

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  5. You know how much I love it when you bring your dad’s wisdom to us. There are so many aspects of this post that I adore…not least of which is the reminder that people can disagree, but still ‘refuse to be enemies’. Such power right there. And your conclusion: …”sometimes people believe it’s a sign of discernment or sophistication when they don’t approve of others” and I’d say that happens often when people simply disagree, hold different views. I’ve been maligned for riding the middle lane, preferring to see all sides of issues and concerns before I commit to an opinion. Maybe that’s the Dick Leon way. The Wynne Leon way? 😉
    I don’t need to like everything/everyone, but gosh, a little loving kindness and compassion can go a long way. 💕💕💕 Thank you, Wynne!

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    1. Oh, what a beautiful comment, Vicki! The Dick Leon way – yes, I totally believe you walk a path in much the same way that my dad did. Boy, would he have loved you! I love your conclusion about loving/kindness. Yes, yes, yes! ❤ ❤ ❤

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  6. “Not being very smart.” Ha, ha, the more you write about your father Wynne, the more I’m convinced he was a genius. I joke a lot, but I’m not joking about that. When confronted with others of differing opinions and beliefs, it’s easy to find disagreement, it’s easy to call names, it’s hard to find common ground. It’s hard to look for understanding. Like your companion piece, when bad things happen, it’s so easy to hate and be angry. It takes courage to love your neighbor and put yourself in others shoes. Your post should be required reading in every social studies, history, civics class and a few relationship classes too. Thanks for the wonderful message.

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    1. Oh Brian, you are so kind. I’m smiling – I think my father was a genius as well. You are right – it’s an incredibly hard practice and one that we often aren’t able to see making a difference. But I’m grateful to write these kinds of posts because it helps me to solidify the lesson. Thanks, my friend!

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  7. Well I found HoTM again, although still not in the feed…
    Your dad had a gift Wynne, that’s very clear. I might even go so far as to say a unique quality- sort of what Brian was getting to in his comment, and perhaps there is no great word to describe how he looked at life- we need a compilation of many. It’s very cliche, but the qualities your dad held firmly to in his life are ones that seem so far from where we are today. Not simply his spiritual viewpoint, but his views on simply being a good human. I would have loved to have conversations with him.

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    1. What an insightful comment, Deb. First of all, my dad would have loved to have a conversation with you! Secondly, your point that his lifeviews were multi-faceted but with a firm values foundation is so good. I’d say that it’s taken me a lot of time (and writing) to try to embody the seemingly easy way he interfaced with the world. And that’s too bad about the WP reader – I’m going to check that out. Thanks, Deb!

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    1. Ah, Mary! I can see why you picked that sentence. I’m guessing with your ever present encouragement, you’ve gotten a little of that disbelief aimed your way. Thank you for your lovely comment!

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  8. I love the stories that you share about your dad, Wynne. Not only does he have one killer sense of humour but such kindness and wisdom.

    We need people like your dad today in our very divided world. It is so easy to hate others, especially when forces and algorithms compel us to.

    It takes true courage to lean in and to refuse to be enemies. We don’t have to like or love each other but we must certainly try to live with civility. And your dad seemed to get that. And I see that in you too!

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    1. Oh, Ab – “when forces and algorithms compel us to.” That is sooo good! Yes, indeed! I see that same spirit of tireless advocacy and unity in you as well. I wish my dad could meet this beautiful community but in so many ways, he already has.

      Hope you have a great week, my friend!! ❤

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  9. Great story, Wynne! I would have loved to have been friends with your dad. I know sometimes I can be a bit of a Pollyanna, but I’d rather be too optimistic than pessimistic.

    I just read this story in your book, so it’s pretty fresh in my mind. I wonder how much resistance your dad got from church members when he became involved in civil rights or human rights.

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    1. Oh Pete, I can totally see you and my dad as friends! I’m with you, I’d rather be too optimistic than pessimistic.

      And you make such good points as well. I think my dad got a little resistance from church members from civil rights. But he good be very good-naturedly dogged when he thought he was doing the right thing. And he was a hard guy to stay mad at. I bet you know a bit about that too! 🙂

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    1. ” We live in times when being disagreeable is the default. ” – wow – that sums a lot up in one sentence. As is the point of view that understanding people is a gift. It reminds me of your conversation with the checker and Bob. Thanks, Ally!

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