Life is the Event.

It recently occurred to me with greater intensity than ever that we define ourselves by making the distinction between 'me' and 'you', 'us' and 'them'. "I'm an American." "He's Iranian." "She's Indian." "We are Christian, they are Muslims." White vs Black. Poor vs Rich. Men vs Women. Democrats vs Republicans. I'm right, you're wrong. Of course, not all of us do this all the time toward everyone, but it's there - probably more often than you realize.

I've traveled a decent amount in my life, and I've interacted with all sorts of people. In South Africa it was the elementary and high school children, some with no shoes. In Greece it was the Iraqi refugees I met in a soup kitchen. In Jordan it was the Palestinian taxi drivers. In each of these situations, relations were friendly and, mostly, even fun despite coming from completely different experiences and realities. Underlying our interactions was a mutual respect and understanding concerning our shared humanity. That alone is enough.

As humans, we are quite susceptible to siding with the people, place, and ideas we happen to be born. We take pride in it. I had the privilege of being born into the US. Had I been born anywhere else, I would have pride in that place, I'd likely be raised with that location's popular religious and political ideas, and I'd be a completely different person. As it is, this is who I am, and I'm grateful to be me. But knowing this helps me to pause and at least try to see the world from another perspective.

I think back to soccer teams I've been on. You take 20 guys from different background, different races, different cultures, different economic situations, and you put them on the same team, make them work together, run together, sweat together, win together, lose together - they become like brothers. Those events connect them. Differences disappear.

I recently saw a TEDTalk given by Elif Shafak called The Politics of Fiction. Beginning at 7:20 minutes, she tells a story of how after an earthquake she witnessed a "conservative grocer" and a transvestite consoling each other on the sidewalk by sharing a cigarette. She states, "On the face of death and destruction, our mundane differences evaporated and we all became one, even if for a few hours."

Why does it take some external reason to wake up and realize that we are so much more alike than we can ever be considered "different"? Why do we have to be near "death and destruction" to realize how strongly our need for community is, or to realize our common humanity? Why does it take an external event to bring people together? Our shared humanity is enough. Life is the event. We're all in this together. You and me. Us and Them.