2.6 – Closing Ritual/Checkout – (10 minutes)
A closing reflection to read before each person in the group offers a one sentence statement of personal intent about a particular goal they may have or a more general statement of resonance with something discussed during the workshop or read in the concluding poem:
“…when we move beyond shame (or at least don’t let it be the driving emotion), we recognize that while we can never cure ourselves of the culture in which we were raised, we can transform it. It will take generations, but so be it. Now is the time to be on the right side of history, not by purifying yourself of racism, but by grappling with it one humbling, sad, liberating, loving moment at a time. It won’t get you A’s, but it will make you more human.”
The quote appears on Handout 2.4b: The Painful and Liberating Practice of Facing My Own Racism, by Courtney E. Martin – https://onbeing.org/blog/courtney-martin-the-painful-and-liberating-practice-of-facing-my-own-racism/
A poem by Leslie Takahashi Morris, from the book Voices from the Margins
They teach us to read in black and white.
Truth is this – the rest false.
You are whole – or broken.
Who you love is acceptable – or not.
Life tells its truth in many hues.
But we are taught to think in either/or.
To believe the teachings of Jesus – OR Buddha.
To believe in human potential – OR a power beyond a single will.
I am broken OR I am powerful.
Life embraces multiple truths, speaks of both, and of and.
We are taught to see in absolutes.
Good versus evil.
Male versus female,
Old versus young,
Gay versus straight.
Let us see the fractions, the spectrum, the margins.
Let us open our hearts to the complexity of our worlds.
Let us make our lives sanctuaries, to nurture our many identities.
The day is coming when all will know
That the rainbow world is more gorgeous than monochrome,
That a river of identities can ebb and flow over the static, stubborn rocks in its course,
That the margins hold the center.
Jacqui James and Mark D. Morrison-Reed (2012). Voices from the Margins. Skinner House.
A poem by D. H. Lawrence, from the book The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart
I am not a mechanism, an assembly of various sections.
And it is not because the mechanism is working wrongly, that I am ill.
I am ill because of wounds to the soul, to the deep emotional self
and the wounds to the soul take a long, long time, only time can help
and patience, and a certain difficult repentance,
long, difficult repentance, realization of life’s mistake, and the freeing oneself
from the endless repetition of the mistake
which mankind at large has chosen to sanctify.
Robert Bly, James Hillman, and Michael Meade (Eds) (1992). The Rag and Bone Shop of the Heart. Harper Collins.