In family therapy with my parents once when I was thirteen, the psychologist asked me what emotion each person in our family felt most easily. I remember pausing for a moment, and then naming the others’ emotions without much hesitation. My parents laughed, nervously. I took that to mean they agreed.
“And you?” the therapist asked.
I didn’t have to think. “Guilt,” I said.
I remember feeling a little triumphant that I knew us all so well.
I also felt trapped. Because honestly, I was sick of feeling guilty…
D.L. Mayfield was kind enough to participate in the interviews I’m doing about taking small steps towards being better neighbors. And to my joy, she said I could post a little something on her site, too, for her series on downward mobility. I am a little gobsmacked to be included in such amazing company, but hey, I won’t say no. I’d love you to join me over there for the rest of this essay–on our siblings around the world, our privilege, our guilt, and what the heck we’re supposed to do with it all.