Cultural Diversity Has Become Cultural Disparity
Misjudging On What We See
There have been quite a few conversations about how we judge people by the way they look. It might be a style of dress, hairstyle, tattoos, piercings, or skin color. In the end, it comes down to attributing certain negative characteristics to anyone who looks like someone you’ve decided is mean, scary, or dangerous.
Sometimes, it stems from a bad experience. When I was in elementary school, a neighbor girl who happened to be Hispanic used to knock me down and bash my head on the sidewalk. Had I had different, less accepting parents, I might have developed a hatred and distrust of anyone who looked Hispanic. Thankfully, my parents had a diverse group of friends when we lived in the Valley so I never attributed one person’s behavior to an entire culture.
More often these days, it stems from what we hear, the area we live in, or a combination of factors. Too many people rely on the media to determine how they think and believe these days, causing everyone to hate each other for some unspecified reason, or no reason at all.
Negative Impacts of Forced Diversity Training
Businesses are forced to teach cultural diversity in the workplace. Yet the way 
they go about it often makes things worse instead of better. Someone along the way decided cultural diversity training meant teaching white people to treat everyone else with more sensitivity and respect, instead of making it applicable to all. Rather than bringing everyone closer together, it’s widened the gap into a chasm, and made the disparity even more noticeable and impossible to breach.
In her Red Table Talks, Jada Pinkett Smith talks a lot about the disparities between whites and blacks. But she doesn’t slap the blame on one side of the table. Instead, she admits there are generations-old prejudices on both sides, and that the solution requires both sides to release those prejudices and come together with open minds.
In one episode in particular (though not her only one on the subject), “The Racial Divide: Women of Color and White Women”, three generations of black women discuss their own ingrained prejudices. Those biases, often instilled since birth stand in the way of meeting white women halfway to try and resolve conflicts which were once based on traumatic experiences, but generalized to include all who looked a certain way. Two white women join the conversation, with an emphasis on “conversation”.
Replacing Conflict With Conversation
In order to truly embrace the diversity of our cultures, we need more conversations. We need more coming together, not because it’s dictated by a government or other entity, but because we truly want to understand each others’ beliefs and pain points. But more, because we want to bridge the gaps those beliefs and pain points have generated through the passing of prejudices from generation to generation.
We need to stop the knee-jerk tendency to blame some artificially designated group for our problems, society’s problems, or anyone else who thinks they need a scapegoat. Assigning scapegoats solves nothing, but it sure does create a lot more hate, anger, and chaos.
The question becomes, do we truly want to solve the problems we see and rant about, or is ranting our real purpose? As human beings, do we simply require something to complain about? Can we not be happy when we work in concert with other humans? With nature? Is drama our state of balance?
Taking the Time to Analyze the Cause in the Conflict
I can’t speak for everyone else. I only know it doesn’t work for me. I’m not at 
ease when I’m in conflict with others. I experience discomfort when I’m out of sorts with someone in my own social circle, much less a large chunk of society. Yet I haven’t figured out how to get back in balance. There are too many conflicting factions, all demanding I take their side, and speak out in the same manner they do.
Sorry folks. I was given a brain so I could think, reflect, research, and form my own opinions just like everyone else was. I refuse to allow anyone to take that choice; that ability away from me. Those who need blanket agreement from their associates are not going to find me a good fit. I think for myself and act as I see fit.
Learning to Replace Hurt and Anger With Forgiveness
Do I make mistakes? Of course I do. And I try to own up to them insofar as the other party or parties is willing to accept my apology and move on. Again, it’s not always the case. Some people hold onto a negative experience and will judge me as lacking forever more. I’ve done the same myself until I find a way to forgive myself and the other party. We’re all human, which means, we aren’t perfect. All we can do is try.
I hurt a friend’s feelings a few days ago. Not intentionally. More out of clumsiness, and forgetting to recognize she’s a bit raw right now. In hindsight, I realize I was heavy-handed with my teasing because I was hurting too. But I told myself I was stupid for feeling hurt instead of honoring my own feelings, and tried to move on. Without thinking, I took it out on her, partly because she was an innocent party to why I was hurt. So I’m worrying that she’ll think less of me for my clumsiness, though I know she’s one of the most forgiving (almost to a fault) people I have the good fortune to call “friend”.
Avoiding the Pitfalls When We Ass-U-me
My point here is we tend to make assumptions, most of them false when we’re not acknowledged or answered. It happens often enough between friends, so take the number of instances and multiply it by 50 billion or so. That will give you a conservative idea of how many misunderstandings and misconceptions happen every day in our nation, much less, our world.
We seem to have lost the ability to create a safe environment where we can say “I’m hurt and upset by…” or “I don’t feel comfortable with…” or simply “Can you help me understand why…”
Until we can feel comfortable being honest about all the ingrained beliefs—all the baggage we’re carrying around, whether experienced or inherited, we’ll continue to see a seemingly insurmountable disparity between cultures; between generations; between genders; between everything else we use to build walls that separate us. We have to start by removing a few of our own bricks first.
Keeping the Lines of Communication Open
Are there more disconnects than connections in your life? Are you overwhelmed just trying to keep up with the day-to-day? Would you like to take a task or two off your plate? Maybe it’s content creation, or perhaps it’s getting your books in order and creating a budget. If this sounds familiar and you’re ready to streamline your life and give your business space to grow and thrive, CONTACT ME and let’s talk!
Remembering How Much We Have to be Grateful For
My gratitudes today are:
- I am grateful for the ability to see what needs to change, and that I can only start with myself.
- I am grateful for the things I’ve seen, the places I’ve gone, and the people I’ve met along the way.
- I am grateful I’m starting to learn to listen more and talk less, though it’s an ongoing process, and I need lots of reminders.
- I am grateful for the mistakes I’ve made. They help me learn to do better next time.
- I am grateful for abundance; love, friendship, lessons, challenges, vocabulary, mistakes, life, inspiration, motivation, crazy dreams, peace, harmony, health, philanthropy, and prosperity.
Love and Light
About the Author
Sheri Conaway is a writer, blogger, ghostwriter, and advocate for cats. Sheri believes 
in the Laws , of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income. If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her Hire Me page for more information. You can also find her on Facebook Sheri Levenstein-Conaway Author or in her new group, Putting Your Whole Heart Forward
Even though I have several decades under my belt, some things don’t seem to change. Men buzz around one beautiful flower, and completely miss the fact that there’s an entire garden to choose from. Maybe what attracts them has morphed a little, but they all still seem to want the same thing.
who know how to feign extroversion) seem to be the ones attracting all the bees. The quieter ones who open up only once they’ve developed a level of trust are left alone. I suppose we’re not worth the effort it takes to get to know us. Getting past the hard outer shell many of us have developed after years of disappointing relationships takes a willingness to be patient and keep things casual for awhile.
I hear similar laments from other women, so don’t think it’s just me. At this point, there are several factors which could be contributors, not only for me but for some of my friends:
to have a relationship simply act more interested in the process. Once eye contact is made, they have a way of making each person they talk to, male or female feel special in their own way. Though I’ve been the recipient, I’ve never mastered that particular social skill.
I talk to one of my “Belle” friends a lot. She says I need to be more open to meeting people in off-the-wall places like elevators and jury duty; places others seem to meet. But I don’t feel I’m at my best in a crowd of people, or when I’m sweaty and wearing baggy clothes at the gym. I find it difficult to connect when I go somewhere for a purpose, or have to be somewhere I consider unpleasant. Instead, I’ll put headphones in my ear and hide out behind a book or a laptop. It’s my way of making the uncomfortable bearable.
manage it, but clearly they do or there would be a lot more people drifting around alone. My only guess is they grew more tired of being alone than I have, and took a giant step outside their comfort zone, socially. They learned to approach men they didn’t know while being friendly and open. Maybe they used the dating sites or something to help get themselves over the hump. The discovered something I’ve been unable to figure out. Which means there’s still hope for me and the rest of the women who feel like wallpaper.
of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income. If you’d like to have her write for you, please visit her 
Although my kids moved out years ago (has it really been that long?) I’m starting to notice things I no longer keep in the house. I don’t mean the obvious like piles of laundry, messy rooms, and a sink full of dishes I didn’t use. No, I mean the more subtle things. The products I no longer use and the foods I no longer eat, the occupation of my space.
the kids flew the coop? Here are a few things, years later I’m still discovering and loving:
Still, it isn’t all wine and roses. There are and always will be downsides to living alone. The biggest for me is being alone when I’d rather not be. I’m basically an introvert, so I’m not likely to just go out by myself to a place where I don’t know people to avoid being alone on a Friday night.
parents out there definitely has its highs and lows. We learn to adjust to the lows and fill our lives with enough activity to keep us from wallowing. We learn how much alone is enough, and where it becomes too much to bear. Of course, pets are a huge benefit. Without them, I know I’d have crashed and burned a few times when life threw too many tough things at me, or gave me too much time alone.
My social circle; my friends are real huggers. We hug hello. We hug good-bye. We hug because we know someone needs it, or because we know they’re having a tough time. We hug for joy when someone has wonderful news. We hug for no reason at all. Still, there is the hug from someone who believes you are their moon, sun, and stars. It’s the most special kind of hug, and one I haven’t felt in a very long time.
many days would go by before someone even thought to check and see why I was so quiet? How many days would I be off social media before someone thought to ask why I hadn’t made a single peep?” If the times I’ve been sick for a few days, or simply boycotting social media are any indication, it could be a while.
The last month has been trying on pretty much every level; mentally, emotionally, spiritually, financially. You name it, and I’ve taken a hit directly or indirectly. I’ve shed buckets of tears, though primarily in the privacy of my own home with the cats my only comfort.
the successes and failures are your own. You get to keep the lessons for the failures without having someone else’s castigation added to the mix. When you fall on your face, it’s only you who has to get up, dust yourself off, look at what didn’t work, and try again with the new insight you’ve gained.
I’ve used the excuse: “I’m a writer and an introvert. I’m better off working alone” far too many times. I recognize it’s an excuse to be a hermit. Even more, I’m learning I don’t want to be a hermit all the time. I want to be around people and be part of a community. I want to let people see that I succeed sometimes and fail others, just like them. Besides, being a perpetual hermit is extremely unhealthy. Far too many psychopaths live in that world. I’d rather not be looked at through the same glass as someone whose moral compass hasn’t pointed to true North in a very long time, if ever.
after trying to convince myself I shouldn’t share my sad state with others, and reached a saturation point with Hallmark movies. The last one, alone has pushed me a little ways out of my funk to get a few things done I’d been avoiding for ages. I’d convinced myself once again that I wasn’t worthy, lacked the necessary experience, and didn’t want to do those things anyway.
There’s a time and a place to call “bullshit” on ourselves. I found mine when a friend knocked on my door on a cold, rainy night with a container of split pea soup. Her simple act reminded me how much my own simple acts mean to others. I realized it isn’t so much the what as it is the doing in the first place. Showing up is often the greatest gift of all, both for the giver and the receiver.
it, but my vibration is in the toilet. With each baby step I take; each proffered hand I accept, I leave the darkness a little further behind. The darkness is no longer the friend it once deceived me into believing. Instead, I reach towards the sunshine, the light of friendship, love, caring, and sharing.
I’m no stranger to grief. I’ve had enough opportunities in my life where it was not only appropriate but necessary. But I’m no stranger to suppressing or denying my grief either. When each of my parents died, I made thousands of excuses to keep going on, business as usual while I broke into a million little pieces inside. I convinced myself the grief wasn’t necessary and got in the way of doing the things I was supposed to. In a lot of ways, both my family and Society had trained me well—too well.
a place to dance. As stories are shared of celebrations, of countless marriages which came about because of meetings at that particular place, of families sharing, of connections that last for years, even when people move away; I realize not only for me, but for thousands of others, it became a home. We came together, some as friends, others as strangers, and became a family connected at the heart.
Even as so many communicate only by text message or social media, it’s been a place where cell phones are put down, if only for a few minutes, and connections are made on the dance floor, doing something that brings joy not only to the dancers, but to those on the sidelines watching.
We didn’t just lose people on November 7th. Even those we didn’t know well were familiar, comforting faces we saw every week. Some helped maintain order and kept the place friendly and the dance floor safe. Others were a smiling face that greeted us or served us food and drinks, raising our spirits no matter how the day had gone. No matter what role they played, they were familiar faces; people we’d 
come to know by sight, and who, in their own way, brought joy into the place by their very presence. But more, they were part of a family which shared in each others’ successes, commiserated when jobs or family were lost, celebrated birthdays, weddings, births, anniversaries…
Admittedly, it isn’t easy to reach out to people who are continually angry or depressed. They’re harder to be around, more difficult to love, and sometimes impossible to understand. Some isolate themselves, then blame their isolation on society, and rightfully so. Even in a family, you often have to fit in first before you can start showing your broken parts. Some people are so broken, they believe the only way they can hide those uncomfortable parts is by staying within their own four walls.
who’ve lost so much more. Even in the privacy of my own home, I’ve yet to shed more than a few tears, though many more are dammed up inside me waiting for an opportunity to flow.
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