I just don't have the luck

This was what my daughter surprised us with after school this afternoon. 

Having never heard her use the phrase "luck" in reference to herself before, (since she's only 4 1/2), and this generally not matching our teaching about how the world works, I asked her to clarify again.

"I just don't have the luck.  Other kids have the luck, but I don't have the luck."  

Again, clarification was needed.  Fortunately, she's an incredible communicator, and was able to share that she didn't feel she had "the luck" with getting friends to play with her or share during the school day.  

We talked about the "trick" that I help people learn - that what we tell ourselves has power to change what we feel.  

We went through examples...

"If I ask a friend to spend time together and they say, 'No,' and I tell myself it's because they don't like me, how will I feel?"  

"Sad," she responded.

"If I tell myself they are busy and we will try again another time, how will I feel?"

"That it is okay," she agreed. 

"And I still might feel disappointed, because it's not what I want," I reminded her, "But I may not feel as sad or like there's something wrong with me."

And so on.  We did a few, and she was clearly getting it.  

Next, we role-played what she can say to the friend telling her she had to do something she didn't want to. 

She nailed it.  

(I admit she amazes me constantly.)

While this cognitive strategy can work wonders in many situations (especially with practice and if we constantly re-wire our brain so that it doesn't take such intense effort each time), I admit that it's not nearly enough for the social injustice, lack of compassion, and prejudice that affects so many, so deeply on a daily basis.

• It's not enough for the parent helping her child make sense of being called racial slurs on the playground.

• It's not enough for the business person being followed around the store because he went to pick up milk for the kids in casual clothes (while Black).

• It's not enough for the manager being talked down to by peers, and even supervisees, because they speak with a different accent.

• It's not enough for the countless mothers and fathers fearing each birthday as their son ages too quickly from being a "cute boy" to being a perceived "dangerous man" because of his dark skin.

Cognitive reframing does not erase the effects of constant discrimination, bias, and hate.  

To suggest otherwise when someone has been repeatedly judged, ridiculed, cast out, cast aside, ignored (and so on) because of some aspect of who they are to simply "think about it differently" would be overly simplistic, dismissive, and belittling of the incredible strength and resilience people show in overcoming "a thousand cuts" day in and day out.

When an incident represents responses that explicitly (or implicitly) reference race, gender, or ability (and not more basic developmental social skills), reframing thoughts is only a measure of mitigation. 

While it is important not to internalize others' bad behavior, placing responsibility for decreasing the impact onto the very person being harmed fails to solve the dis-ease at the root of the problem.

As we move through this holiday season with tensions and stresses high across the globe, new variants of COVID, tragedies blanketing the news, and family squabbles, estrangement, and losses threatening tsunami waves of grief and overwhelm...

Let us identify and pursue the support we need to remain grounded in compassion - for ourselves, and others - without seeking to minimize our own distress by offering "easy fixes" for the pain of others.

What are the points of the story and caution above?

1) When we hold space for exploring our own emotions, we best sort through our thoughts to find what is out of place and causing, or exacerbating, harm. 

2) When we can sort through our own thoughts, we can best hold space for our own and others' genuine emotions - without rushing in with the "what you need to be doing / thinking / feeling" that compromise the very foundation of trust, compassion, and safety.

You matter.  You can make a difference.  I'm so thankful you're here.