Thank You For Making Me Better

Thank You For Making Me Better

John Paul Derryberry

How do you process a week like this? In one part of our country, leaders are targeting Trans youth and their support system.. In another section, kids and their support system in the LGBTQ community are staring at a possible law targeting their choices. Lastly, a man decided his country should invade a peaceful country. All are varying levels of evil and scary, which leave many of us wondering where to turn, what to do, and how to proceed.

If I had those answers, I would be shouting them as loud as I could to as many people as I could. But, I'm humble enough to realize that the anger permeating society is not solved by any words I type out today. Expressions of solidarity are cheap without action. Offering support seems not enough, and saying I will stand with you looks like I'm making it about me. In total honesty, a big problem we face as communities is not making other people's tragedies about ourselves. We do it constantly; we take the lead when the people we are helping are more than capable of leading themselves.

So I write today hoping that one member of the LGBTQ community will read this and walk away knowing that I value their contribution to society. I'm a better husband, father, friend, social worker, human being because of my interactions with the beautiful people from that community. I still remember the kindness a trans youth kid showed me when I was there supporting them.

I had agreed to take them to their first LGBTQ pride festival. It would also happen to my first. Saying I felt out of place was an understatement. I sat there in my uncomfortableness and watched them come alive. I kept telling myself, "you agreed to an hour, 1 hour of uncomfortableness should be easy compared to their lifetime of that feeling." It was hard, and they could tell I was struggling. Finally, they looked at me and stated, "we can leave; I can see you are not enjoying it." My heart sank at their compassion.

They were finally in their place, a place they could be themselves and would willingly give it up to keep me comfortable. I refused to leave and stated it was my job to find some comfort in my uncomfortableness for them. And I did, as I watched them interact, ask questions, and dance to the music. They were just trying to figure out who they were, and I could finally clearly see that. It should not take a straight white man going to pride festival to process that, but for this one, it did. When we finally walked away from that festival, they said they felt alive and thank you so much. I stopped them and said no, thank you, I'm a better person for being here today. We both teared up.

To know compassion is to sit with people and their stuff and not judge, not pity, and not explain it away; to find common ground upon which we can build respect for one another. To understand, they offer the world a unique perspective that we need. They have in spades values that we lack. And we are all the better for it if we are lucky enough to call any LBGTQ community member a friend. So I offer no elegant solution to what we face today. Only a thank you for making me a better person. I hope your talents haven't been wasted on me.