By Gizem Karaali, Pomona College
I have a secret: For the last year or so, my nine-year-old daughter and I have been trying to develop a meditation practice. This guy, Andy, who leads us daily through meditation sessions facilitated by a phone app, has become a familiar name between my daughter and me. (Even my five-year-old occasionally mentions Andy when going to bed at night; sleepy-time Andy tells us to lie on our backs and close our eyes and start by saying good night to our toes.) One day my daughter posed me a question. We had just completed our ten-minute session for the day. She was not willing to move on yet, it seemed, so I waited. She finally formulated her question and asked, very carefully, “Mom, is Andy perfect?”
This is a profound question even though it has an easy answer: “No”. If Andy is human, he is not perfect. Yet none of his flaws are really my business, because he is effectively teaching us to be better. He is consistently, with kindness, in good humor, and with no sign of condescension, telling us how we can do better. In every session, or let me be honest, in most sessions, we learn from him.
Aren’t there always those we look up to who exemplify ideals we wish to uphold or those who represent the type of character that leaves us in awe? Reading Art Duval’s post on kindness in this very blog, listening to Francis Su’s talk on mathematics for human flourishing, digging into clear critiques of our community fearlessly dispensed by mathematicians such as Piper Harron and Izabella Laba, some of us might wistfully say: but I am not good enough. I am not as capable. I am not as kind. I am not as forgiving. I am not as insightful. I am not as brave.
Now let me rephrase that for you so as to be clear. All of the above are ways of saying the same thing: “I am not ready to be vulnerable.” All these amazing people are amazing partially because they are willing to put themselves out there, trying to live up to their own ideals. (And for some, an alternative may not even exist.) Do they ever falter? Maybe they do. It is not my story to tell. Again, like Andy, any of their possible faltering is none of my business. What is my business is what I learn from them.