My mother was the most inclusive person I’ve known. Her approach gifted me with the moral inclination to seek what I have in common with others more importantly than our differences. After 72 years I now know Mom’s inclinations apply to every phase of my life.
- Inclusive spirituality. When I returned to the parish of my youth 18 years ago, I assumed I would fit in just as my mom always did.
- Inclusive business organizations. The company I sold in 2007 was available in 2014 for a fraction of its selling price. I acquired it hopeful that our culture remained.
- Inclusive families. When divorces hit our Irish Catholic family, I believed I could still connect with exes since Mom taught we (already) were a family of misfit toys.
- Inclusive government. From 16-62 I was hard core Republican, proud that my conservative party, while less open minded, accommodates compromise.
- Inclusive education. I returned home (also) excited that I could help St John School, my alma mater, grow.
Here’s what I found: A faith community that rejected me so publicly that Alice and I now practice in a neighboring county. A business culture that was destroyed by seven years of exclusion by management. (The top eight executives of the new company never even moved to Ohio.) Relatives who urged me to ignore ex-partners. A GOP now building a government focused on exclusion of immigrants, allies and “non-normal” Americans. And an alma mater that had dwindled to 200 students (K-12). (Just my class had 100 students).
Having acquired the discipline over time to “play the hand that is dealt to me”, these disappointments broke my heart, then led me to fight in mom’s name. Nothing can be done about my parish, now down to a few hundred members, so I’ve invested my time and money in other organizations that model faith, hope and charity. Every business we’ve ever owned focuses on people development, for all. Our family’s outcasts who wish to have a connection know they have a place with me and Alice. I’m restarting my political career on the ground, now 8 years into being a precinct election official. And we are 12 years into a St. John’s rebuild (600+ students) behind our inclusive President, Sister Maureen Burke.
Practically speaking, community growth through exclusion is simply metaphysically impossible, whether it is our family, our faith, our business or our government. Organisms only grow via inclusive change. Policies of exclusion are established to tighten control by fewer people, of fewer people. I find sad irony in the fact that the Catholic Popes and Republican Presidents of my youth were the architects of ecumenism and détente.
Most importantly, I’ve found that inclusion is more fun. Just like growing is more fun. Life and love are difficult, so we need boundaries, but life is more fully lived inclusively.
Peace,
Tim McCarthy
