Belonging
identity, possession, and control
We spend so much time and effort searching for a place to belong. Whether it’s work, friends, church, school - we are constantly searching for a place where we feel safe, accepted, and perhaps even appreciated.
This week I had conversations with multiple friends about this very thing. A message from a teacher that felt demeaning. How a church can show that it is truly welcoming to all. When a colleague can express herself imperfectly without causing offense.
It always feels existential. Even the most micro-issue takes on macro consequences: how is my identity perceived in this environment? What does that say about me, and what does it say about my environment?
Much of the time, we are all navigating these questions together, bumping into each other and creating boundaries whether or not that is our intention.
Other times, the lines are more determinedly drawn.
Those doing the drawing are, at least sometimes, motivated by the purpose of preserving their values. A church has certain tenets by which members must abide. A school has certain standards. Friends have boundaries.
When it comes to a country, are the lines drawn clearly and with intention? By whom?
Asylum law has grappled fiercely with the situation of abused women seeking shelter in the United States. Is this a category that we protect? For a period of years, the answer was yes - if the man abusing them saw the woman as his property.
It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, so perhaps you’ve eaten a conversation heart recently. Ur mine, or maybe I’m yours. When does “you’re my love/partner/soulmate” cross over into “I own you”? Can we belong to someone without being possessed by them?
When it comes to the country, can we feel that we belong without expecting it to belong to us? When did we begin to believe that our own belonging gives us the right to possess and control the nation, and everyone within it?