Well Mama, I am a Prep School Kid

Sunday night as I left Evensong I received a text, "Lacrosse game over, just come home."  I wondered why it was already over, but since I'd been at work for 12 hours I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth--home  out of the heels and into sweats was my goal.  As I was leaving the building I saw I had a notice on facebook so I quickly checked that and read, "Haven't heard the whole story but I think I'm happy that Jack got kicked out of his lacrosse game tonight for defending a teammate in a blatant helmet grab."  I was tagged, and I quickly put two and two together and realized there had been a fight, my son had been involved--probably the helmet grabee--and that was probably why the game was over.

That night I asked Christopher what happened and he said, "He grabbed my helmet and tried to throw me down."  Chris Sr. quickly added, "And to Boss' credit, he backed up and put both hands up.  He didn't retaliate.  Jack, however, defended him."  Now I love my son; I love to watch my son play sports; AND I know my son likes to talk trash on the field/court (notice I didn't use "love" in that part).  So I say, "What did you say to provoke it?"  Here's the story I got (and that has been corroborated by many).  The other young man who happens to go to the same high school as our daughter--a public high school--said, "F****ing prep school kid."  Christopher responded, "Yeah we get that alot."  And then came the helmet grab.  I don't know whether the player was irritated he didn't get a reaction out of Christopher or whether he was embarrassed he wasn't more original.  Regardless, game over.

All night it bugged me--why did he have to say that?  Why couldn't he just call him another name?  And what led to the violent response?  So in the morning I said to Christopher, "I know I should let this go, but I can't.  Do lots of teams say that stuff to ya'll?"  "Yes, " said Christopher, "both to the you should let this go and lots of teams call us expletive prep school kids."  "That really bothers me," I said, "I don't want you to be labeled that way."  And then as only a 16 year old son of a neurotic slightly obsessive mother can do, he put his arm around me, kissed the top of my head and said, "Well Mama,  I am a prep school kid."

It's Tuesday--I still haven't let it go.  I realize it's not the label particularly but the meaning behind the label--the stereotype--"the rich, entitled, spoiled kid".    And I wanted to defend Christopher--who am I kidding?  I wanted to defend myself; justify myself and the choice Chris and I made to send the children to LCS.  I wanted to say he's not a rich, entitled, spoiled (well maybe spoiled, I do wake him up with hot chocolate brought to his bedside every morning) kid.  We sacrifice; we make choices; we saved; we send our daughter to public school; AND we're nice people!!!!  It wasn't the label--it was the meaning behind it.   Besides, who gets to say that's what a prep school kid is?   As I became more indignant I thought, and what if we were rich?  Does that make us bad?  And now I was really on a roll, who decides what rich is?  Christopher may have stepped away with his hands in the air, but I was still swinging.  I wanted to beat into somebody, anybody, that "prep school kid" is just a label and I wanted to beat out of anyone who would listen the stereo typical meaning. I could live with the label if the meaning went away.

Labels without meanings, hmmm.  Christopher was right--he is a prep school kid.  But the meanings we have put on the labels, the meanings, they create boundaries and divisions; the meanings create disdain, hostility, fear, and sometimes even hatred.  And these divisions are not limited to high school boys on a lacrosse field.  Divisions come in so many ways.  Republican/Democrat, high church/low church, Protestant/Catholic, Muslim, Christian, Jew, and on it goes.  So often we label a person, make an assumption based on the meanings behind the labels, and write them off.  The person becomes only the label and yet more than the label.  And when that happens, far too often, the person ceases to exist in "our world" as a worthy human being.

Yesterday commemorating Saint Simon and Saint Jude, the scripture was, "For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us." (Ephesians 2:14).  As disciples of Christ we are called to follow his way; we are called to live in another way, a way we're labels and groups don't rule.  We are called to break down the walls between groups and recognize that despite our differences we all, every single person, is created in the image of God and is a beloved child of God.  We are all more than any label can ever be used to define us.

I believe God is calling us to reach across the political aisle, the religious aisle, the socio-economic aisle, the racial aisle, the sexuality aisle, the gender aisle and grasp onto the hand of someone on the other side.  To hold on tightly to another, to feel the skin of another--to honor the other as a child of God who is so much more than one label.  How do we do it?  The Rt. Rev. Porter Taylor, Bishop of Western North Carolina, says, "Begin today.  Think of someone you avoid or dislike or cannot talk to.  Send them a hand written letter wishing them well..  When you see them, cross the divide to greet them in the name of the Lord.  Call them.  Refuse to write off the people who drive you crazy."

Can we do it?  I believe we have no choice; the next generation is already learning the wrong way.  Today let's stop the helmet grabs.