A Thousand Words On… My Siblings

Years ago, I was in Oklahoma for the holidays. After we cleared empty plates from the dinner table, we moved through the next stage in the ritual. Gathered around the Christmas tree, gifts were being opened in an orderly fashion, wrapping paper tossed aside, gratitude exchanged, and then a quick version of show-and-tell. Surrounded by my parents, siblings, nieces and nephews, I took stock of the room and the people in it. In that special place, I began thinking about family and the circumstances that shape them. Among these people, I grew up. This place and these people shape me. With or without their knowledge, they placed me on a path that is still unraveling itself in fantastic ways.

In my life, at moments when we gather as a family, I have felt the sting of our differences. In their presence during occasions such as these, I have felt like an outsider. My life has unfolded in ways so vastly different from theirs. So much of my life has been an exercise in rejection — rejecting the tyranny of the expected. I left my small hometown and pursued nonprofit work. I opened myself up to new ideas and ways of viewing the world. Unsettled by being told what to believe, how to worship, or how to vote, I did things my own way. I loved differently and found value in roots never fully planted. The terms of my life have differed vastly from my siblings. Not better. Just different.