“Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.” Maya Angelou
This is one of those quotes that was a major “aha” moment for me. To me it is both a call to better yourself and a call to be kind to yourself for the mistakes you made before that learning took place.
The first time I heard it was on an Oprah show years ago, and it quickly became a mantra. I would read a parenting book or go to a workshop and hear about a tool that sounded so simple and I would wonder why I hadn’t thought of it before. I would see the difference it made when I stopped saying “no” to everything my kids asked and said “yes, you can have that after dinner” or “let me think about that”. When I wondered why something so simple had eluded me for so long, I would think of Maya Angelou and promise to try to do better tomorrow.
It is one of those quotes that comes up again and again. This past week, I saw a Facebook post about Elliot Page and how to discuss a person’s transition in a supportive and respectful way. I learned a lot from reading the article, then immediately felt bad for some of the things I may have thought or said in the past. Then I remembered Maya and thanked the person who shared the post for helping me do better.
I have always prided myself on being open-minded and strived to be as non-judgmental as possible, but I have come to realize that I tend to resist change initially, and when I give myself time to process, I “do better”. When I have a chance to think things through, I can look back and recognize judgments I made in the past. Over the years I have moved from “gay marriage” to “marriage”, from questioning transitions to understanding “deadnames”, and from “Merry Christmas” to “Happy Holidays”, to name just a few.
For all its faults, 2020 has resulted in a lot of learning for me; maybe it’s the advantage of time in the midst of a tumultuous world. I have come to understand privilege in a new way. The first time I watched this video of the race to $100, I found it such a powerful illustration of what the word really means. I came to realize that having privilege doesn’t mean my life was easy, that I haven’t experienced pain or suffering, or that good things were just handed to me. I came to realize that it means I have never been judged because of the colour of my skin or my sexual orientation; that I was raised in a middle-class house in suburbia by 2 parents who loved me. I have advantages over others that I haven’t “earned” in any way.
This filter has had a big impact on my life view. And when I feel guilty about where I used to be, I remember Maya and celebrate the fact that I am now “doing better”, and that tomorrow I will do even better.
