Let's All Be Doorholders Together

July 18, 2016

In the light of all the horrible tragedies across our nation, I left work one evening last week feeling heavy.

I had thrown my phone into the bottom of my bag, all social media apps already deleted for the weekend because I just needed a break.

I saw a black woman crossing the street in front of me with an Indian woman. I saw them laughing together, and I couldn't help but smile, even with all the grief weighing heavy on me after a long day. I saw a black man hold the door open for the Indian woman, who held it open for the black woman, who held it open for me, a white woman, and I, in turn, held it open for the white man behind me.

It was so simple, but so powerful. I kept thinking how beautiful it would be if we held the door open (literally or metaphorically) for each other more often. If those who were up ahead helped make a way for those coming behind. If those with an opportunity before them shared it with those around them. If those with privilege made a way for those without.

And then, last night at a coffeeshop, my phone again tucked in my bag so I could try to finish my book before the shop closed, I saw a white man sit down for coffee with a black man.

The two couldn’t have looked more different-- one man with long, tangled dreads down his back, wearing a straw hat with a black, red, and yellow band around it and a bright orange breezy shirt with a repeating palm tree pattern, and the other man in a navy polo shirt with khaki shorts and boat shoes on his feet.

An unlikely pair for sure, but their conversation seemed effortless like they had been friends forever. I overheard them talk of their love for jazz music and classical, overheard snippets as they talked about the cities they’ve lived in around the country and which ones they liked best.

Earlier this weekend, I was with family, and my grandma showed us old videos from my mom’s childhood on an Air Force base in Korea. There was a scene of a birthday party, and the camera panned around the room to show my mom with her brown hair and knobby knees, her two light-haired and fair-skinned brothers, a black child, several Asian children, and others of ethnicities I couldn’t quite identify quick enough. Even 40-some years ago, kids of all different colors were playing silly party games without a care about their skin or their status.

We are fighting through hashtags about whose lives matter, and we are pointing fingers in blame, and we are calling out colors for being wrong or being racist, and I think it would be good for us to just take a step back.

I think we would see something hopeful if we put the screens away.

I could have easily been scrolling Twitter as I crossed the street and never even noticed the chain of doorholders ahead of me.

I could easily have been Instagramming my chai latte next to my book at the coffeeshop and missed the interactions happening around me.

I could have been busy texting instead of watching those old home movies.

I could have missed it all.

I could have missed these moments, these glimpses, these snapshots of hope and friendship that didn’t care at all about color.

I could have missed these reminders that we truly are all just human, all living on the same planet, all trying to do the best we know how.

I don’t want to miss that.

I want to keep my eyes open, even when it’s hard, even when I’m discouraged, even when the headlines are shouting terror in my ears. I want to look for the beauty, look for the hope, look for encouragement, because I know it’s still there. I want to look for the light, because I know the darkness has not overcome it, it never will.

I encourage you to look for the good this week.

I encourage you to disconnect.

I encourage you to look people in the eye, to smile at strangers, to watch those around you as they interact, to compliment someone as they pass, to strike up conversation with someone next to you, to acknowledge the existence of the humans around you.

Let’s see each other. Let’s listen to each other. Let’s hold doors option for each other. Let’s ask each other questions. Let’s remind each other that we are here, that life is still worth living, that there is work to be done, and we are all in it together.