My first read of Dr. Seuss was, surprisingly, not one of his picture books. I discovered Bartholomew and the Oobleck in the school library, and loved the marvelous chaos of the falling green goo, the word “oobleck,” the spooky executioner, and the thoroughly satisfying ending. Our third-grade teacher required us to read a book aloud in class: my read of Bartholomew and the Oobleck enthralled my classmates and was a high point in an otherwise pallid year.
As an adult, I read Dr. Seuss to my students and then to my daughters. The man—Theodore Geisel—had an innate sense of a child’s mind and needs. He also wrote and illustrated some racist stuff.
But here’s the thing: Dr. Seuss realized his wrong. He apologized. And he wrote Horton Hears a Who as an amends for his racist depictions. In addition, he ceased “othering” people groups in his depictions, and his estate, following Seuss’ lead, ceased publishing the earlier, troubling texts. Was it enough? As a white person, that’s not mine to answer. I can, however, speak to Dr. Seuss’ courage.
It takes guts to admit when we’re wrong: I’m not talking about tossing off an apology. I’m talking about sitting with the damage our actions caused, grieving that, and taking action moving forward to first right the wrong as best we can, and then to alter the arc of our lives toward the Good.
Because, if we cannot muster the courage for honesty and humility, we fall prey to hubris: a faux strength that expresses itself in bullying, lying, projection, verbal and physical abuse, and/or willful denial. Hubris hurts everyone—ourselves included.
On the Christian calendar, it’s the season of Lent: a time to get real about ourselves and our relationship to the Divine. A time to confess our “bads,” to seek the Good, and to live into the freedom of authenticity and abundance. After all, “A person’s a person, no matter how small.”
Share your thoughts about Dr. Seuss, about second chances, about courage. at contact@aspaciousplace.com.
Tag Archives: courage
Soul & Solace: The Critic
The worst thing I can do when I sit down to write, is to open the door for The Critic. You know the guy: he strides in, wearing a superior expression, a bad mustache, and chewing on a cigar. In tones at once bored and superior, he launches in.
“What drivel.”
“Been done a thousand times. And better.”
“You USED to be a writer. Too bad…”
And the oldie but baddie: “Don’t you get it? You just can’t.”
In the sixteen years A Spacious Place has been providing creativity services, we’ve heard The Critic internalized and voiced by people we serve. Perhaps The Critic once spoke at them from an authority figure or someone they admired. Perhaps they just never got the chance to try, fail, and try again in a supportive environment. So, The Critic mouths off at them using their own voice.
“I’m not creative.”
“Been there, done that.”
“Creating’s for kids (or not for men, like me).”
“Waste of time—I need to be working.”
And the oldie but baddie: “I’m no good at this. I just can’t.”
We all can—and we need to—create. We’ve just been socialized by The Critic to believe we can’t. And that’s a tragedy, because creating, which feeds our souls, helps us reach our human potential, and connects us with our Creator, also boasts an abundance of fringe benefits. The risk-taking creating demands boosts our courage. Creating that doesn’t go to plan enhances our ability to deal with frustration, to problem solve, and to shift perspective. Creating opens our eyes to beauty and truth around us, which helps ease burnout and depression. And because, most of the time, we create to share a truth of ourselves with others, creating builds healthy community.
So, when The Critic strides on to our doorstep, we can silently point to the exit, press the door shut, and
plate an appetizing meal, or
plant a colorful garden, or
weave a basket, or
sing a song, or
embroider a pillow, or
paint a still life, or…
…whatever silences The Critic so we can hear the truth and beauty of our own voice.
How do you respond to The Critic? How do you express your creativity? We would love to hear from you. Share your Soul & Solace thoughts with us at contact@aspaciousplace.com.