X is for xenagogue
“I do desire we be better strangers.” – William Shakespeare
I want to be a better stranger in 2008.
My thanks to all who sent suggestions for X, the bane of any alphabetic journey. Thanks to Leah who suggested xenagogue (guide; someone who conducts strangers), xenial (of or concerning hospitality towards guests), xenium (gift made to a guest or ambassador; any compulsory gift) and xenodochial (hospitable; kindly to strangers). And to Marilyn who asked, “Why don’t you share with us your own personal Xanadu?” (That one made me smile). To Joan who offered Xplore, Xcite, and Xperience! And Karynne who suggested “lots of x’s – kisses” and Victoria who offered Xeriscape from the Greek "XEROS" meaning dry. From Sally, two great suggestions: “X-ed out, referring to the death penalty in New Jersey…or just X = the unknown factor we are constantly trying to figure out." Or Rick who offered “xyst,” the long covered portico you use when the weather won’t permit running in nature.”
All wonderful suggestions. In the end, I chose one that links to an intention I have for next year: Xenagogue. I want to be a better stranger in 2008.
It’s easy to help, to guide, to welcome—when you’re welcoming people you know or people you perceive to be in your tribe, your friends, your peeps. That’s easy. Sure, even in that group sometimes we forget our manners—like when we’re in line at Best Buy with a few thousand of our closest friends six days before Christmas (Right, Mr. Flat Screen TV Returner With the Attitude?)—but usually we’re hospitable to our kind. We look out for them because we can see ourselves in them.
But we fall short when we don’t see ourselves in others. We turn the channel, we block out the news of their hurt and pain and genocide. I think that has to change.
Reading: David Berreby, Us and Them.
Intentions: In 2008, I will look for myself in other people, and particularly in people I believe are unlike me. Like we peer to see the similarities between a parent’s face and that of their child, or as at our 30-year high school reunion we seek the vestiges of the teenager we knew in the older face now in front of us, I’ll look for that similarity of myself to the faces of the people I meet—the bank teller, the beggar outside the drug store, the goth teenager. I will pay attention to news stories about people I don’t relate to—looking for ways in which our lives are similar, ways in which we share a common humanity that requires me to help, to guide, to be a better stranger. I will break stride.
From the last alphabet challenge: X is for xenophobia
