I identify with the “disoriented” descriptor because—in many ways—white Christian nationalism still disorients me. Having grown up in a denomination where most people refuse to say the pledge of allegiance, I find myself utterly confused when I meet Christians who revere the flag as if God Himself created it. I still find myself thrown totally off-guard when people start talking about the United States as if it is a new Israel or pull scripture out of context and try to apply it to the United States. I know that all of this is a thing. Despite all of the consciousness of the dangers of mixing Jesus and country in the Quaker church, I still see it happen, so I am mentally aware of it. But it surprises me every single time.

“Deconstructing” also resonates with me because I think that I am very much still in the process of shedding some of this ideology from my life and faith. Something that I struggle with is inappropriate caretaking. Growing up, it was always my job—as the oldest sister—to mother my siblings. When my husband began to struggle with alcoholism in the early years of our marriage, I fell into the role of mothering him. And unfortunately, I sometimes bring this energy into my other relationships. I think I know what is best for everyone, and that is very much—in addition to weird family dynamics and response to trying to save my husband—a product of white Christian nationalism. I have to work very hard to pull myself back when I feel this tendency and others coming up. I almost wonder if I will always be deconstructing this, to a certain extent.

Some next steps for me are to keep learning and to keep disentangling. Also, however, I think that a big next step for me lies in that concept of being that we have been talking so much about. I have to keep reminding myself that I am beloved, and so is everyone else. I have to keep allowing God’s love and grace to be the thing that humbles me, guides me, and girds me.

What immediately pops into my head is my brother Andrew when I think about reconciliation. He was born deaf and since we are 2 years apart I learned early on the different ways we walked throughout the world. I learned about places where he was not welcomed and the communities where he was. People who did not want to learn how to communicate with him and the people that were willing to put in the effort to learn ASL. I learned a lot about how the education system treats children who are deaf and met some amazing teachers that spoke truth to stand up for their students. 

I am a fierce advocate and supporter of him, …most of the time. I was his interpreter when he played baseball growing up because I was ‘cooler’ than our parents. I sat in meetings throughout college with advisors to ensure he was understood and his questions were answered. I’ve gone to medical appointments when his interpreter doesn’t show. When we go to concerts, I make sure that there are interpreters, so he can enjoy the music. I am lucky to be part of a family that learned sign language and supports all of his identity and culture. At the same time, if I am honest, my hands get tired. I get frustrated when I have to sign all the time because it is work. I get exhausted from interpreting. I have to put in effort and practice to keep up with the language. 

So when asked about who has most shaped my understanding of reconciliation, my brother did. He taught me from the moment he was born. He taught me by being his curious, patient, understanding, and loving self. Recently, I was honored to be his interpreter for a book he was being interviewed for. He spoke about his body, his language and how he experiences the world. It continues to be an honor and a blessing to hear his story. He is patient and kind, stubborn and loud, curious and a justice-seeker, and he cares deeply about those around him. What amazes me most about my brother is his ability to forgive. His ability to speak truth about what he needs from us in one hand and in the other grace and understanding for when we get frustrated. He lives and breathes justice, peace, truth and mercy in his daily life and I get to witness it as his sister.