“Bubbles” (Kara)

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about bubbles. We all live in bubbles. I’ve told my kids this for years. Our lives in Granger, Indiana are not like the vast majority of the world. Are there some who have more? Certainly, but there are far too many who have less and live very different lives than we do. I have always wanted my kids to be aware of our bubble. 

I didn’t have a hard life growing up by any means. My parents had steady jobs as teachers and my dad as a coach. We had plenty of everything we needed and a home filled with love. What we didn’t have was everything we wanted. We didn't have all the extras. There were no spring vacations, no back to school shopping sprees, Starbucks, or trips to Target just because. Going out to eat was a treat. Getting bigger items was a big deal. We sometimes had to wait until payday or had to spend our own money for things that weren’t essentials. I remember wanting more and being envious of others, but I didn’t take for granted the fact that I had two amazing parents who loved my sisters and me. I knew we were lucky. 

Over the years my parents worked in all kinds of schools with all kinds of families. There were black families, white families, wealthy and poor. Some kids had good home lives and some came from nothing without a stable adult in the house. My mom and dad were always open and honest and never tried to shield us from the harsh reality of how many families lived. Any bubble we were living in was one in which my sisters and I were well aware of the inequities and racism that existed around us.

My dad was a disciplinarian and a motivator. To some, especially his basketball players, he became a father figure. Back in the day, there was always drama because basketball was a big deal in Indiana. He was threatened by parents of players and players who were cut from the team. Once a coach from an opposing team referred to my dad’s predominantly black team, with racial slurs. One disgruntled fan told him there could never be more than two black kids starting for the team at a time. There were a lot of people who didn’t like the way my dad coached and the fact that he didn’t cower under the pressure of some. I think this is when I learned a lot about doing the right thing, even when it’s hard. 

As a kid I saw the extremes of having nothing compared to having a lot. I saw how having money and clout afforded some people opportunities and experiences that others would never have. And so began my frustration and awareness of “The haves and the have nots.” I always questioned the fairness of those born into a family who had everything vs. a family who had almost nothing. It angered me then and still does today.

I recently watched “Little Fires Everywhere,” based on the novel by Celeste Ng. It’s a thought provoking movie addressing racism, sexism and privilege as well as themes of empathy and compassion. It made me think about my own white privilege and beliefs. In the past weeks after watching, listening, and learning about Black Lives Matter I realize it isn’t okay for me to continue to think I’m not a racist if I’m ignoring the injustices and inequalities around me. It's simply not enough to continue to think and act the way I always have. I have to live it, and in order for me to do that I have to look more closely at the world as it exists. Systems have to change and I have to look beyond myself and my bubble because that is the RIGHT thing to do.

I guess we all live in bubbles to some extent. It’s how we make ourselves feel we have some kind of control. It happens without us even realizing. It’s created by our upbringing, where we live, and our socioeconomic status. Many of us have the good fortune to go about our days, working, taking care of our families, planning this and that. We keep ourselves protected from the world around us. We ignore and gloss over what doesn’t affect our lives directly. Right or wrong it’s what we do. It’s easier than worrying about the troubles of others. We inwardly and outwardly try to justify turning a blind eye. How often do we find ourselves thinking, “What can I do to make a difference anyway? How can I be expected to care about everyone around me when it’s hard enough to take care of what’s in front of me?”

But at some point we are challenged with expanding our bubble or making it smaller. For many of us, until we are faced with difficult times or loss, we stick to the “status quo.” Our mindset being, “Well this is how I grew up, this is what I was taught to believe, work hard, be successful, take care of my family.” We do everything we can to keep our bubbles nice and small with our people and our beliefs tucked safely inside. It’s understandable how we get here...all of us existing in a bubble of “protection,” but what about the world around us? What about systematic racism and poverty? What about a pandemic that is killing thousands of people everyday? Is it really okay for us to blatantly pretend things are as they should be as long as we’re not affected? The older I get the harder it is for me to understand deliberately choosing to live in a tiny bubble. It's something I wrestle with daily. Why does it take experiencing pain ourselves to care about the pain of others? 

When Drew died my world crumbled. I didn’t want to be here without him. I couldn’t bear the thought of my kids not having their dad. I spent a lot of time stuck in my head. I kept coming back to how my mom used to tell me there will always be people who have more and are in better situations than we are. But at the same time, there will always be people who have less and have harder things to get through. I thought of this often in my despair and knew it was true. I still had my kids. We still had a home. We had suffered a tremendous, unfair and gross loss, but still, we were lucky. I had to acknowledge there are so many more who have it worse. For whatever reason, whatever their situation, their homelife, their upbringing, the mistakes they made, or the life they were innocently born into...there are some who have it harder. Recognizing that can put fight in a broken heart and shine a light on the unimaginable suffering of others. Life isn’t fair, it never will be. 

Even after losing my husband, even in the midst of a pandemic, right and left, black and white, gay and straight…I still find myself shrinking into my bubble where I fool myself into thinking this world is about me. I’m guilty of it. I admit it and it’s wrong. I cannot forget from where I came. I cannot forget how bad it can get. I can’t judge or pretend I understand the lives of anyone around me when I have no idea what they’ve been through. What I CAN do is open my heart. I can love others and accept others and let go of “the way it’s always been.” I can give people the benefit of the doubt, root for the underdog and ask myself the tough questions. I can wear the damn mask!

Ultimately there comes a time in life when our bubble will burst. No matter how hard we try, it is impossible to keep it intact. Situations and experiences, losses and struggles will find their way in and force us to realize what really matters in life. It is in these times we often see how small a bubble in which we are living. The beauty and power in this is that once that bubble is broken we have the ability to make it bigger. We can make space for the things we didn’t understand before. We can think critically about the big picture and the suffering of people around us. So much of how we live depends upon our experiences and our stories. We all have a story. I think the world is maybe in the earliest stages of listening and asking each other what exactly that story is. We are learning that one person’s story isn’t better than anyone else's, but knowing, caring and sharing our stories can change everything. 

Times are changing. Life as it was, is no more, for innumerable reasons. Our children need us and are trying to be heard. They are protesting, posting and urging us, the adults, to wake the hell up and do what’s right. Am I going to try to shelter them by keeping them close to me, in our “safe” little bubble, preaching my old school beliefs? Or am I going to listen to them and the world around me and try to be better?  

I used to think that you get to a point in life when it all comes together. You figure out the big things...your faith, your beliefs, your relationships. I didn’t understand that these are the things that will continue to challenge us, frustrate us, and ultimately make us who we are called to be. We simply can’t get too comfortable in the life we are living. People come in and out of our lives forever. Situations change by our own doing or completely by chance. We lose, we gain. It is ever changing and so must we...in our hearts, our minds, our beliefs and in our dreams. Nothing stays the same and neither should we.