How often do you think about what you’re thinking about? That’s not a tongue-twister. It’s a legitimate question that touches on our biases.
If you’re like me, much of your understanding of the world has been shaped through stories you picked up on TV, movies, books or heard from friends. Like the applications that run on our computers, our brains run on unconscious programming that only gets triggered when something goes amiss. The reality is that unconscious bias lives in our brains, and we generally only take notice of it when we bump into discomfort.
For me, that discomfort has come in a variety of forms that I may not have paid attention to if it weren’t for the stories that challenge stereotypes.
I’m a white, Christian woman who has spent the entirety of my 60-plus years living in relatively small Midwest communities. Growing up, I never gave much thought to how my opinions about others were shaped. It didn’t occur to me until well into adulthood how small my understanding of the world was. I figured because I traveled, I was culturally intelligent. Then I started bumping into ideas about people and groups that surfaced in my mind without intent, and there were moments when I found myself uncomfortable. It was only when I began examining that discomfort that things began to change.
When we bump into our own bias, it creates a momentary disruption to the status quo. It’s that moment of uncomfortable disruption that offers a choice: Feed the bias and perpetuate harm, or fix it by piquing your curiosity, allowing stories to reshape your subconscious. I’ve seen the power of stories at work in my life, which is why I’ve been so excited, and grateful, to help a client launch “Inspired Generosity,” a story-based program focusing on the Muslim American experience in philanthropy. The initiative starts Tuesday and runs through Dec. 15 with events at the Impact House, 200 W. Madison St.
Engaging with these stories and the storytellers has reshaped my understanding of generosity. I’ve spent most of my career in philanthropic spaces — a sector that celebrates generosity, yet often discounts kindness when it doesn’t translate to big dollars from privileged white donors.
The reality of philanthropy — this goodwill or love of mankind, as it is often defined — is that a smile offered to a fellow human being is just as powerful as a megagift. For me, that’s the message of “Inspired Generosity”: Every act of kindness is philanthropy.
Tamela A. Spicer, founder and principal, The Intentional Catalyst, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Will he get in with no regrets?
President Donald Trump jokingly said that if he can secure peace in Ukraine, he might get into heaven. His evangelical fans who helped get him elected should explain to him that the pathway to heaven is through repentance. Donald shows no signs of repenting, and at 79, his time is growing short.
Dan McGuire, Bensenville