Last weekend, I had the chance to watch a documentary film called Courageous Journey: the Story of Dr. Joycelyn Elders. Local documentarians Scott Ramsey and Kisa Clark made the movie, which has been shown at several film festivals and even won the "Best From Around Here" prize at the Ozark Foothills FilmFest.
Courageous Journey tells the story of Arkansas native Elders. From her humble beginnings in rural Arkansas to her remarkable rise to U.S. surgeon general, hers is an improbable story. Although she grew up in great poverty, she made the most of her opportunities. She became only the second African-American woman to graduate from the University of Arkansas Medical School.
In the midst of a successful medical career, Elders was called on by Gov. Bill Clinton to serve as our state's health director, where she pioneered a controversial plan to launch health clinics in public schools. These clinics were designed to give young people greater access to needed health care, including birth control.
When he became president, Clinton took Elders to Washington, D.C., with him, where she became surgeon general. Although she only served in this position for 15 months, she left her mark on this position as well. In fact, I can only name two people who served as Surgeon General: C. Everett Koop and Elders.
As I watched the film about her life and legacy, I was taken with the realization that everything I thought I knew about Elders was probably not true. In all honesty, everything I thought I knew about her I learned from listening to the Rush Limbaugh radio show in the 1990s.
The political enemies of President Clinton portrayed Elders as a caricature with nefarious motives and ill-intent for American culture. And I believed them.
What I learned from Scott and Kisa's film is that Elders is a woman to be deeply respected with a remarkable legacy. She is a courageous yet humble civil rights pioneer. Although she strongly held controversial positions, she was always willing to engage in meaningful dialog with her critics, especially during her time as health director in Arkansas. Elders was also a pragmatic leader who focused on accomplishing her objectives, namely to improve the health prospects of our state's and nation's children.
The realization that my perceptions of Elders were all wrong led to another realization -- I'm probably wrong about a whole lot of other people, too.
Which politicians or public figures have media-created personas that are nowhere close to the reality of who they are? Have I allowed someone's political enemies to define how I think of a person? Who else's caricature is completely false even though I believe it to be true?
These questions bother me.
But not nearly as much as this one: Why am I so willing to believe the worst about other people?
It's certainly not the teaching and example of Jesus that leads me to be this way.
The heart of the Christian social ethic is the teaching of Jesus that we should treat others as we want to be treated, the so-called "Golden Rule." I don't want other people to misunderstand me. I don't want them to assume the worst about me. I don't want those who don't like me to define me.
I want to experience love, understanding and grace from others, as I would hope I extend these to them.
Expanding on Jesus' teaching, the Apostle Paul wrote famously about love in 1 Corinthians 13, saying,"Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices in the truth." He's talking about how we treat each other. If we really love one another, we won't relish in the worst about each other. We won't take joy in each other's failures. We won't assume the most evil version of each other is the truest version of who we are.
I'm thankful for Joycelyn Elders -- the real Joycelyn Elders. I'm thankful for the film that gave me the opportunity to learn her story and to learn even more about my own. And I'm thankful most for the chance to give and receive the kind of love that helps us all be the best version of ourselves.
NAN Religion on 11/14/2015