Does where you live live in you?

Many years ago I was the emcee for my high school class’s 20th reunion. It was actually our first reunion, but it came 20 years after our graduation. Overachievers.

Anyway, one of the things I said in my little talk was this: “I’m really glad I grew up here, and I’m really glad I left.”

Several of my classmates could relate to that. Some could not, but they waited. (One of my classmates, at that point in his late 30’s, had never been out of the county — total population about 15,000.)

I began with the first part. Growing up in a small town in a rural area taught me a lot. The value of community, of neighbors, of going to school with many of the same people from grade school through high school. We had shared experiences. We went to the same church, or we were part of Scouts, or we worked on farms or in oil fields together, or played the same sports.

I was in sixth grade when my mother got sick, and a few months later died. That was when I found out I had three or four other families. Some of those, but not all, included a friend who was my age.

It was an amazing blessing to grow up in a small town where I could walk or ride my bike anywhere, be safe, and be known.

Traveling

That is not to say we always stayed home. Our dad made sure we were exposed to live theater, good food, and many other cultures. We drove from the Midwest to Florida, where we swam in the ocean. At 15 I spent a summer in Houston with my cousin and learned to drive in the Rice University parking lot.

In the years after high school my travels and my perspective and my viewpoints expanded even more.

What did I learn? So much.

When I landed in a gray airplane on a gray runway in the middle of a gray October day at a U.S. airbase in Seoul, Korea, I could have quoted Dorothy.

In The Wizard of Oz, having been transported to a mystical place, she said to her dog Toto, “I’ve got a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.” I didn’t have a dog, and I hadn’t started in Kansas, but even so I knew what Dorothy meant.

On a slow moving bus on an unpaved road from the airbase to camp, I looked out the window and saw a mother openly breastfeeding her baby. A mile or so later I saw Korean workers on a three story tall scaffolding made entirely of bamboo.

At the airbase I wanted just one thing: to get back on that gray plane and go home. On the bus, about an hour later, wonder began to replace loneliness.

None of that, nor the many subsequent experiences, would have been available to me in my home town.

When in Rome

Some soldiers I knew experienced that culture and dismissed it as a third-world anomaly. Thanks to my dad, I understood that these were real people living their very real lives. I was the anomaly, and I needed to learn from them.

And I did, though I never learned to like kimchi,

It wasn’t my goal to become Korean, but there was a lot I wanted to know. And I wanted to be the best possible visitor I could be.

Without knowing it, I was in part following the advice, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Wikipedia reports that this phrase, credited to Augustine, was in response to a question he had asked Ambrose about fasting on Saturday. That was a practice in Rome, but not in Milan, where they lived. Ambrose apparently said, “When I am in Milan, I do not fast on Saturday, but when I am in Rome, I do.” Thus, “When in Rome….”

This principle is also Biblical, and there the intent is to not force your beliefs — even if they are correct — on another whose faith might be less mature.

But here is what happens: spend enough time in Rome fasting on Saturday, and fasting on Saturday will soon seem normal.

The practices and beliefs of those with whom you live will often challenge, and sometimes change, your own practices and beliefs.

What do you believe?

Beliefs and opinions are not the same. Usually we should say, “I think” rather than “I believe.”

Unlike opinions, beliefs are settled. They have been tested, examined, and tested again. They are part of who you are.

Now it may be that you hold some opinion or other so dearly that you call it a belief, when in fact it is not really at that level.

Those, and other opinions, should always be held lightly with a willingness to change them. One way to test them is to travel. Even in the USA, there are many other cultures you could explore and enjoy and learn from.

Maybe you can’t just get up and go, but you can stay home and go. Go online and read a web site that has a different perspective than yours. Go to the library and check out a book promoting ideals you don’t hold. While you’re there, get one on Korean cooking and try some of that. (Let me know if you like kimchi.)

My point is that you don’t have to go far to experience different cultures. And the more time you spend listening to and conversing with those who have different experiences than you, the more your mind will open.

Most importantly, though, you will learn this: people with “wrong” opinions are not idiots. If you lived where they lived, you might share their opinions. And clearly you are not an idiot.

No matter where you go, always take this with you: I will do good.

Where you live (and have lived) does live in you. But it isn’t a one-way street. Bring the good, and may that live in the people who live around you.

Do good. It’s in you.