Permanent Records

I’m not so very young anymore, but I still remember the nuns in grade school instilling the fear of God within all uniformed boys and girls; this, in the form of ‘THE permanent record'.

If the young'uns exhibited non-compliance of any type, this record (which followed our every step) would be marked-up with indelible ink (perhaps using a sharpie if the offense was quite severe) for all to see. This ‘crime’ would then become permanent, as in forever. The threat states that,

• Someday, our parents will read it.
• Someday, job interviewers will read it.
• Someday, the government will read it.
• Yes, God will read it – even though I was told that He has His own time-honored workflow for record-keeping.

As a grade schooler, I remember being terrified.  So then, I suppose the intended behavior modification was, in most ways, successful. 

All grown up now.

I can’t imagine that my final 8th-grade record (read, "Police Jacket") exists on any plane today since everything back then was pen and paper. (No, hieroglyphics were not used for my personal transcript because well, old does not automatically mean ancient!)  

In the world today, our grades and achievements in school are stored somewhere but we create the sequel with our own social media posts.  (NOTE: Those ‘someday’ considerations above?  Yeah. We should think about that.)

Whether your annals are inscribed on stone or etched in the cloud with ones and zeros, whether your story is written by others or by you, whether it could be called historically significant or comic relief, it is yours and, in many cases, available for others to see.

I had thought I would propose that we examine what our own present-day permanent record would tell people about us. And then, I realized that with the volume of information available to us, this undertaking might be more than we could manage. You would never finish reading this article. Maybe you’ve stopped already, I don’t know.

But if you’re still here, let’s consider a concise definition for simplicity and focus. Let’s start thinking about this phase of our record as, "That which has been archived and includes only the information that we ourselves had no part in creating".

To consider this narrowed field of information, we must ask ourselves questions.  The answers to these questions are well known to us.  We know where we were born, who our parents are, what schools we attended, and how active we’ve been in sports and activities.  We know our history – we know how we became this person that we so endearingly call, "Me".

But for today, let’s ask what-if questions. Let’s think about how the answers to these questions might affect our perception of ourselves, our lives, and our beliefs.

We can start with something simple like our birthplace.  

• “What if I was born in Malibu, California?”
• And then ask, “What if I was born in Mariupol, Ukraine?”
• Or maybe, "What if I was born in the New Orleans 9th Ward?"  

Let’s consider how life might be different if,

• My parents graduated from Harvard
• I grew up in a home that needed me to help support my family instead of going to school.
• I was an urbanite and was never without a half dozen friends to explore and have fun with.
• I lived on a farm in a rural area with no internet and the nearest neighbor was 2 miles away.
• My family took vacations every year that included Disney World, Alaskan Cruises, and Dude Ranches.
• I spent my childhood in public housing.

And if we really want to examine the results of our arbitrarily defined personal archive, we can answer what-if situations like,

• My skin color is _____.
• I am _____ (straight, gay, or ____)
• My parents taught me about ______ (Jesus, Allah, Mohammed, or _____)
• I am a refugee trying to enter the United States from ______ (Guatemala, Syria, Ukraine, Mexico, _____.)
• I am from a family of 4 children, two girls, and two boys. My brothers were both shot to death before they reached 16 years old.

The considerations above have nothing to do with any decision we have made. The circumstances were not created by our own choosing.  We landed where we landed. None of this is our responsibility. None of the results can be blamed on us. But certainly, if we're honest, our lives would be much different.

I think this examination is what we used to call ‘walking a mile in the shoes of another.’ I don’t hear that phrase very often anymore.

"If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth." 1 John 3:17-18

And one more thing, if you please. We are made in the image of God, but we are human. Our tendency is to love creating relationships with those who most resemble us. It takes work and intentionality to place ourselves in moments of discomfort.  It is easy to misunderstand others.  It is easier still to claim that OUR map is the territory. Easy does not make right, however.

If easy means a garden with only Geraniums, give me the mulch and I'll plant some Tulips, some Hibiscus, and for certain, some Lilacs.

If easy means a forest of only Oak trees, I'll dig in and plant some Sugar Maples. River Birch, and maybe some kind of Evergreen.

And when I'm done, I hope that I have been given opportunities to travel a bit and see the gardens and forests that others have created.

One recent video reminded me to look toward what makes us the same rather than the focus on differences. As so often happens, it’s the children that teach us. 

And while this child entertains with the voice of an angel, I can’t help but pray that she escaped the horrors and found a place where her permanent record can point toward a beautiful and happy life.

Amen.

A young Ukrainian girl singing "Let It Go" in a shelter