Greetings from My Mountain Cabin,
Many years ago, the "My Turn" section of Newsweek magazine featured an article by a young woman of Polish descent about the harmful effects of what some would describe in a derogatory manner as, "Polack Jokes." Proud of an ethnic heritage that included poets, composers, philosophers and statesmen, she bemoaned the fact that a generation of young Polish people were growing up with the unfounded stigma that they were stupid, inept clods. She felt the "jokes" were mean-spirited in intent and must stop.
Certainly our ethnic heritage is a major component of our personal identity. Being embarrassed about one's origins can have devastating effects upon a person's self-image. Yet, has political correctness gone too far?
A little over a year ago, I facilitated a week-end retreat entitled, "Rediscovering Your Sacred Self." The event took place in a beautiful mountain location, about a half hour north of Asheville, NC.
One of the activities I conducted during our time together was the sharing of a Cherokee fable about the dreams of a young lad and his subsequent conversation with his grandfather. It went something like this (abridged for purposes of this posting):
A young Cherokee boy was having a series of vivid and moving nightmares in which a White Wolf and a Black Wolf were locked in mortal combat. Tumbling across the ground, fangs bared, fur flying everywhere, blood spilling, bones being broken; the images were most unsettling.
The boy went to his grandfather in hopes of discovering the meaning of the dreams. The old man said, “Tell me about these wolves, my son.”
The boy replied, “The White Wolf is a good wolf—he is filled with love, affection, honesty, fairness, loyalty and such. The Black Wolf is evil—he is hateful, envious, vicious, deceptive and cruel.”
“And what troubles you most about the dreams?” the old man asked.
His grandson replied, “They are both very strong. I want the fighting to end. Yet, I have no idea which wolf will win.”
Grandfather thought for a moment and said, “That is easy, my son . . . it depends upon which one you feed.”
After pausing for a moment to let the message sink in, I asked my audience the rhetorical question (reflecting the goal of my narration), “In your life, which wolf do you feed?”
During the evaluation session at the end of the weekend, one participant said he felt the wolf story was inappropriate in its stereotyping of (human) black and white traits. I was surprised by his interpretation, convinced no such racial symbolism was intended by the Native American originator. And perhaps intent should have a significant weight as a factor in judging whether a statement or idea is offensive.
Racial slurs have no place in my vocabulary. Yet I have no problem with ethnic humor that is light-hearted and not mean-spirited.
A dear friend of mine who is approaching his ninetieth birthday once brought a sprig of mistletoe to my office to show me what was growing in one of his trees. I guess my mind was elsewhere at the time as I said, "Doc, what is that?" He replied, "It's mistletoe, ya dumb Aggie!" No offense meant and none taken. We both enjoyed a good laugh. (Texas Aggies are probably the biggest fans of Aggie jibes.)
And I unabashedly admit to laughing at jokes featuring Ole and Lena, Boudreau and Thibodeau, NoDaks, Germans (my ethnic heritage), "The priest, the rabbi and the minister," and like most Navy veterans . . . ANYTHING involving a US Marine (aka Jarhead).
Recommendations?
None, really . . . except perhaps to lighten up, not take life so seriously, and treat others as you would like to be treated. But then again, what do I know?
Your politically incorrect Aggie and Kraut,
Ed
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