Lindsay Sinkovich
Interconnectedness is the first word that comes to my mind when I think of the concept of beloved community. I think of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s  Letter From a Birmingham Jail; I think about how we are indeed, “an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” I have lived into his idea that, “Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.”  This includes our thoughts, feelings, words, and actions and the way we interact in everyday life. Actually, in my view, beloved community is not a fantasy far off in the future of a utopia where there truly is “liberty and justice for all,” nor does it require a mission trip to a far off land. As hopeful as I am for the first and as grateful I am that folks do the latter, I have found beloved community to be accessible to all right here and right now. Accepting the call to my role in the beloved community has brought about powerful self-transformation in ways that I could’ve never imagined. Engaging in beloved community reminds me that we all are a work in progress and that with a commitment to wake up to our interconnected nature; we can get through the most challenging times and experiences. Staying awake to the fact that we all want to be loved and that we all experience suffering connects us in a transformative and transcendent way. 

I recently discovered that Dr. King did not coin the phrase beloved community,  but rather it is first attributed to late 19th and early 20th century philosopher Josiah Royce, who believed that when groups of humans become “loyal to and coordinate around a common cause,” they are able to get in touch with a divine wisdom. Of course, Dr. King brought this divine wisdom of beloved community into action during the Civil Rights Era  and it is up to us in the 21st century to continue to live our daily lives in ways that can advance this vision. But how can we advance this vision when our nation has failed in response to a pandemic, costing hundreds of thousands of lives unnecessarily, when half of our country is doubling down on white supremacy, when 1 in 7 children in our country aren’t sure where their next meal is coming from?

Advancing this vision has seemed like quite an impossible mission lately, but we cannot lose heart.  Though staying in ‘beloved community’ for me has at once been the simplest and most challenging act, I’ve come to know beloved community as something in the here and now that is less of a final destination and more of a life-long practice. I liken this to planting seeds and maintaining a garden of which I may never reap the full harvest. But nonetheless, I have faith that my disciplined work will yield benefit to more than just myself. For me, beloved community has meant that I live my life not only to reduce my own suffering, but to do everything I can to reduce suffering for others. Ultimately, I find ‘beloved community’ to be anchored in faith is something larger than ourselves; connecting to divine wisdom. 

While I aspire to Rev.  Shirley Strong’s definition of beloved community which has its roots in the work of Jesus, the Buddha, Gandhi, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., et al  as: “an inclusive, interrelated society based on love, justice, compassion, responsibility, shared power and a respect for all people, places, and things—a society that radically transforms individuals and restructures institutions,” I have also become aware that this is not some far off dream to hope for, this is not something that can only be attained by revoking all materialism and living as an ascetic. Beloved community occurs organically when we make a commitment to have the faith stay awake with love and compassion for ourselves and others in the face of the impossible.

This is not to say I have not been utterly discouraged and on the verge of giving up all hope. Most recently from November of 2016 to present, I have felt tested by what seemed like an abject failure of humanity.  However, one essential aspect to a beloved community is that it is not without conflict. One idea that I’ve read in bell hooks’ writings is that at points in history, social justice movements for civil rights struggles, black power movements, and feminist’s movements have collapsed at times because conflicts between   groups were seen as negative. But as hooks has also said, “The truth is that you can’t build community without conflict.” While conflict is necessary, if you believe in people on both sides of the conflict as inherently good and capable of redemption then there can be a commitment to moving towards resolving conflict and rebuilding community. Though we may be far off from any ideal, this belief in redemption can help move us towards a better understanding of ourselves and each other. 

This theory has tested me in my classroom setting over that past two decades, but most acutely in 2016 and also this academic year. I teach in a community where parents and students largely supported our former President and all the gamut of misinformation and lies that he spread. Because I design my courses in 9, 10, 11, 12 English around the humanities and current events,  we often have classroom discussions based on controversial issues and students were able to figure out that I was not a fan of 45. During the 2016 presidential election, another teacher thought it would be a clever idea to stage a mock election and to print out Trump and Hillary masks. This was all fun and games until I walked into my classroom on Nov. 9, 2016 to a sea of students clad in Trump masks. I remember being truly nauseated, but also felt called to gently show them the error of their ways through compassion and rigorous units of study. This really forced me to put my beliefs in the 1st principle of our faith: the inherent worth and dignity of every person. 

Fast forward to Summer of 2020. My belief in the first principle was once again brought to the fore along with the 2nd principle: justice, equity and compassion in human relations. Essential to my survival this academic year was my belief in these principles first towards myself so that I could project them outwardly. Deeply haunted by an in person return to school, I had nightmarish visions of the students in Trump masks and speaking of masks; I had even more horrendous visions that I was going to be forced into an unsafe environment where students would not be required to be masked or if they were would not follow the procedures. My nightmares were close to being confirmed when I went to prep my classroom and observed staff members walking around unmasked, shaking hands, and discussing how this would all be over soon. However, I stayed true to the inherent dignity principle and realized that I had a right to a safe work environment. Luckily, I found two other colleagues that were invested in safety for all and we fiercely advocated for plexiglass barriers, social distancing, and especially that the masking mandate for schools would be enforced as a zero tolerance policy for all staff and students. Since I literally felt like my life was on the line, I was not afraid to speak up when I saw colleagues walking around the halls with their masks below their nose or even worse–the chin beard look. 

Then when students returned in the fall to 4 days in person instruction, the mask wearing began to get lax again. In every effort to remain compassionate in the face of students coming to school wrapped in Trump 2020 flags with their noses free to everyone’s view, I did feel like losing hope many a day. This year has been grueling and has genuinely made me reflect on a career change, but that’s another story. 

I continued to strongly enforce the mask policy in my classroom, but observed that it wasn’t being followed consistently in other areas of the building. Then I started to realize some of my more rationally minded students were refusing to mask properly. Finally, this came to a boiling point with one of my brightest students. This student and I have mostly good rapport, though we have had some conflicts in Journalism class after I refused to publish a story presenting right wing conspiracy as news. Since she belongs to one of the more prominent families in the community, she felt that it was unnecessary to follow the masking rule and one day outright refused to pull it up over her mouth and nose. I was beside myself and really was just flat out exhausted from being the mask police day in and day out; but my obligation was and is to create a safe learning environment, so I had to stay consistent with enforcement. She was combative when I asked her to pull up her mask. I stayed compassionate and let her know that I had nothing personal against her and that as a matter a fact, she was one of my best writers, however, she had a choice to either mask up or go talk with the principal. She chose the latter. I was in turmoil that I had to send my top student to the office, but had a clear conscience about my decision. 

To shorten this long mask story, I will say that the student apologized to me and has since shown me much respect. She has shared with me and others that despite our disagreement on political views, she feels that she has benefitted from being in my classroom and has told me that I’ve helped her more than I know. Since I have her in my Journalism and Creative Writing classes, we have the opportunity to share many respectful debates. I’m thrilled that I was able to provide a beloved community where students could try out their voices even if they don’t agree with one another. In my opinion, this is the best lesson I could possibly teach in preparing them for life after high school. 

In the past, I’ve mistaken the concept of beloved community for a more utopian-like vision. A vision to hope for and aspire to; one that might not be possible in our time. My experiences have proved that this is not a future vision. My experiences have proved that the key to beloved community is to believe that it is here and now. I’ve found that this concept starts with the self and ripples out to family, work, church, interacting with strangers in our communities, our nation, and all over our planet. To do this we must stay awake and open-hearted with love and compassion through even the worst suffering. 

I know, I know, this is a crazy and radical idea. Who wants to suffer? I’m not suggesting that we become martyrs and saints or even that suffering has some grand and glorified purpose. Because sometimes we suffer in unspeakable ways without purpose or explanation. Sometimes we suffer and there is no grand reward on the other side, just suffering. Therein lies our interconnectedness though. I think in order to actively engage in beloved community is to realize that we ALL suffer. I also caution that from experience, I’ve learned that complacency and clinging to comfort actually results in even more suffering. It is precisely because we all suffer, that I feel we can enhance beloved community.

Though I cannot possibly solve every personal, social, and political issue we are facing right now, I am invested in finding a path forward. It is crucial to remember that we are all flawed and may stumble, but I suggest that we must have the faith in beloved community to see us through. For a lifetime, I’ve been learning experientially about a Buddhist term that connects us to beloved community, it is only recently that I learned the term bodhichitta, meaning Bodhi means “awake,” “enlightened,” or “completely open.” Chitta meaning “mind” and also “heart” or “attitude.”  I have internalized this concept as “completely open heart.” Bodhichitta is a gateway, not only to reducing our own suffering, but ultimately allowing us to follow through on the visions brought to us by those like Josiah Royce and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  

This experience over the past year has been terrifying and beautiful. I’ve laughed and wept. I’ve had COVID scares. I’ve become burned out and reinvigorated.  I’ve come to know that engaging in a beloved community allows space for healing and because I choose to stay awake with an open heart, because I choose to stay present with bodhichitta, I allow space for others to experience healing. 

In closing, I leave you with words of Pema Chodron from her book “When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times,” to inspire and sustain you and to motivate you have faith in beloved community, especially when the going gets rough.

First consider this, “Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and fall apart. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy.”

And finally, “Every day we could think about the aggression in the world in New York, Los Angeles, Halifax, Taiwan, Beirut, Kuwait, Somalia, Iraq, everywhere. All over the world, everybody always strikes out at the enemy, and the pain escalates forever. Every day we could reflect on this and ask ourselves, “Am I going to add to the aggression in the world?” Every day, at the moment when things get edgy, we can just ask ourselves, “Am I going to practice peace, or am I going to war?”