Resources by Richelle White

Recently, I discovered “tea mindfulness,” the term I use for turning the time used in making and drinking tea into moments of meditation. While I have enjoyed tea mindfulness as a means of intentionally thinking and reflecting, I wanted to move beyond the personal practice and engage others in mindful conversation. I started imagining what tea mindfulness might look like in community. Making and sharing tea is an act of hospitality. I thought intently on how to be mindful, intentional, and hospitable while incorporating the practice of drinking tea with my students and colleagues. I considered my Human Diversity course where we encounter, engage, and explore difficult topics which sometimes lead to cognitive dissonance. In a nutshell, Human Diversity builds cultural competence by increasing student’s self-awareness and cross-cultural awareness. Modifying a tea mindfulness practice in the classroom by focusing on mindful conversation and group engagement seemed like a winning strategy for cultivating cultural competence. It would give us the opportunity to engage meaningfully while nurturing appreciation for each other. Thus, the beginning of “Tea, Connections, and Necessary Conversation.”As students entered the classroom, they would encounter a tea station with hot water, an assortment of teas, sweeteners, creamers, lemon wedges, and snacks. At each student’s seat I placed a menu highlighting the variety of teas available, along with an index card. Students moved toward their seats, wondering what was going to happen next. Once everyone had arrived and was seated, I welcomed them to participate in Tea, Connections, and Necessary Conversation, offered directions, and facilitated the process for each student to prepare their tea of choice. One by one they approached the tea station, requested their tea bag, doctored their drink, and engaged in small talk before returning to their seats. After everyone was served, the connections began. Present were: Daniel and DeAndre, twin brothers and basketball players from Metro-Detroit; Josephina, a business major from Grand Rapids; Carl, a thirty-five-year-old non-traditional student who serves as a resident assistant on campus; Abbie, a homeschooled freshman in her second semester; Aisha, an exceptional athlete, who is making her mark on the women’s basketball team; and Eli, a student from a homogenous rural community in Northern Michigan.[i] These are a few of my Human Diversity students whose differences brought them together at Kuyper College. My intention for Tea, Connections, and Necessary Conversation was to provide an opportunity for the students to link up, interface, and join together in dialogue to learn more than surface-level information through engaging, exploring, and experiencing an interchange of thoughts about their similarities, differences, and even points of cognitive dissonance.As students paired up I simulated a “speed dating” activity. I asked a series of questions, where students could enter into short conversations to compare and contrast their interests, insights, perspectives, and experiences. Following two to three minutes of interaction, students would find a new partner and begin a new conversation. The classroom buzzed with excitement, motivating the shyest students to share and dialogue in genuine ways. Questions/prompts included:Tell me about some traditions or rituals your family participates in? Are there new traditions or rituals you would like to introduce to your family?Identify three things you and your conversation partner have in common. Although you share these commonalities, how do you express them differently?What is one word in the English language that irritates you when you hear it? What is another word you could use to replace it?With each question, communication grew deeper, mutual respect increased, and opportunities for connection beyond the classroom became a possibility. The start of necessary conversations began with tea and connection and continued throughout the semester.Human Diversity is a challenging course; it encourages reflection on the difficult truth that we harbor bias and prejudice, engage in racist thinking, and use microaggressions in our daily lives. We spend time confronting these fallen parts of ourselves and identify ways to become our best selves with the Holy Spirit’s advocacy. By engaging and exploring the seven dimensions of diversity (gender, age, ability, religion, race/ethnicity, sexual orientation, class) and the oppression associated with each one, we covenant to love God, others, and ourselves, and seek liberation. This is not an easy task, but Marianne Williamson encourages us by saying – “As we let our own light shine, we consciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates others” (A Return to Love [HarperCollins, 1996]).Necessary conversations are those dialogues that are initiated after the introduction of stories of hard history, culture, and personal experiences. Asking questions, actively listening, and sometimes agreeing to disagree, we grow in self-awareness and cross-cultural awareness and build our cultural competence. Tea, Conversation and Necessary Conversations intentionally provided opportunities for some students to speak to each other for the first time, hear each other’s stories, gain an understanding of one another, and have fun. In one student’s words, “While drinking Jasmine Green tea, relationships became deeper, joy came forth, friends were made.” Notes & Bibliography[i] Names of students changed to protect privacy. 

During the week of my fiftieth birthday, I was surprised to receive a letter and membership card from AARP—American Association of Retired Persons. Upon inspecting the envelope and its contents, my mind traveled back to a brief, yet profound conversation I had with my grandmother, who I call Queen Bee, when I was twelve years old. We were having lunch at our favorite fast-food restaurant. We placed our order and the cashier announced the total along with the senior discount Queen Bee received. Excitedly, I exclaimed, “I can’t wait until I am old enough to get a senior discount!” “That’s ridiculous,” Queen Bee vehemently responded, “You don’t look forward to being a senior to pay less.” This was not the message I was trying to express. I simply thought it was “cool” that seniors received discounts, when young people did not. In my twelve-year-old mind, elders earned the discount for having lived a long life. To me, elders were worthy of respect, and I was happy to see McDonald’s acknowledge that.Recently, I revisited these thoughts about senior status when I participated in Auburn Theological Seminary’s Center for Storytelling and Narrative Change’s Healing the Future Gathering. Thirty-five storytellers gathered from around the United States to share their letters to the future. Surveying the storytelling circle, I realized I was one of the older persons present in a group of mostly Millennials and Gen Zers. I remembered my twelve-year-old perspective about respecting elders. I touched my silver sideburns and asked myself, am I becoming an elder? Throughout the gathering, I was respectfully and kindly approached, cared for, and questioned politely. Continuing to contemplate, I pondered retirement, being elderly, and identifying with what it means to be a senior citizen.I am fifty-five years old, and eligible for a senior discount; however, I am not elderly. Nevertheless, my perspective on how I view myself and younger generations has changed. Teaching in higher education for seventeen years places me beyond early-career status and somewhere between mid- and late-career teaching faculty. As a seasoned teacher-scholar, I see myself adding value to conversations and collective engagement, more so than I have in the past. I am not elderly, but I now join the company of elders.Reflecting on the company of elders, I recall the impact another mid-career teacher-scholar had on my younger self. Dr. Katie Geneva Cannon, whose mission was to equip, encourage, and empower emerging scholars in discovering “the work their souls must have,” was my teacher, mentor, and dissertation advisor. Dr. Cannon was a faithful elder and is now a good ancestor. As a teacher-scholar moving toward retirement within the next twelve to fifteen years, Lord willing, Dr. Cannon’s elder legacy still has me asking, “What is the work my soul must have?” To become a faithful elder and a good ancestor.As a child, I was taught to respect my elders, meaning older adults. But age does not necessarily garner respect. So I ask, “Who is an elder deserving of respect?” Based on my knowledge, engagement, exposure, observation, and conversations, I would describe a faithful elder in this way. Faithful elders are usually older, but they are not defined by age. They are recognized because they have earned the respect of their community. Their words are congruent with their actions and teachings. They are containers filled with essential wisdom. They assess situations, carrying collective and communal prophetic and generative knowledge, and offer constructive feedback. Faithful elders practice their culture, impart their culture, and help others find their culture. They are keepers of tradition, rituals, and values. Faithful elders love God, others, and themselves fiercely. Faithful elders tell stories that shape the future with hope.Reflecting on the roles and actions of faithful elders in our families, schools, churches, communities, and society is important work of the soul. While continuing to move forward in one’s career and calling, becoming a faithful elder is vital to fulfilling one of life’s purposes, not only for oneself but for future generations.The exercise at Auburn Seminary of listening to and absorbing hope-filled letters to the future written by younger generations focused my attention on the collective wisdom, vision, and determination presented by the storytellers. I became embarrassed that in recent years I had given so little thought to the future. Called and convicted, I thought about those who made sacrifices so I could have a future with hope. Those “good” ancestors made decisions prioritizing the quality of life for those coming after. What does it mean for me to follow in their footsteps and become a good ancestor?As a faithful elder, I must build on the hope that has come before me. I must preserve and communicate an African-centered value system. As a faithful elder and storyteller, I must discern what to pass on and what not to pass on to the future. As a faithful elder, I must seek and offer forgiveness in the face of inhumane and unjust systems. As a faithful elder, I must tell the stories that help others to shift from a dejected mindset to one of expectancy, showing the way to a future of assurance.Reflecting on Queen Bee, Dr. Cannon, and a future imagined by young storytellers, I recognize that I have stepped into the company of elders. And it is now my soul’s work to take up the charge of becoming a faithful elder telling stories of hope and moving toward being a good ancestor.

For the past seven months I have been immersed in storytelling. My small project grant, Black Women’s Storytelling as Healing Pedagogy, has taken me on a journey of wonder, insight, wisdom, knowledge, revelation, and so much more. I had conversations with eleven Black women storytellers who are living their vocational calling at the intersection of the church and academy. Their definitions of story and personal practices of storytelling inform their individual and collective approaches to healing pedagogy that inspires human flourishing. The culminating event of this project was a storytelling excursion to Washington DC, to visit the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture. This experience propelled me to the mountaintop of storytelling centered on the African Diasporic experience. Let me share one of a multitude of stories that expanded my worldview. Jim Crow Laws and lynch mobs were a common part of the landscape of the United States prior to the civil war. They continue in a variety of ways beyond the strange fruit that hung from southern trees that Ancestor Billie Holiday sang about. Now unarmed and nonviolent Black men, women, and children serve as target practice for those commissioned to serve and protect. Remembering the 1920’s to 1930’s in Marshall, Texas, and at Wiley College in particular, Professor Melvin B. Tolson confronted racist attitudes and actions to establish a debate team which he knew would be equal to any white teams during that time. The students’ have been given the name “The Great Debaters” and competed in the first inter-racial debate ever held in the history of the south. The film, “The Great Debaters,” was introduced to the world in 2007. The story centered around the young students and their coach, Tolson, played by the film’s director, Denzel Washington. “The Great Debaters” is one of my favorite movies because of its historical significance and embodiment of Black Excellence. During my tour of the museum, I marveled as I thoughtfully and carefully viewed the exhibits and artifacts. One exhibit in particular caught my eye. It was a flier depicting the original Great Debaters from Wiley College. I found myself drawn to the photos of these young men and women, recalling the struggles and obstacles they had to overcome as they sought to establish themselves as just as good or better than their white counterparts in the field of forensics. As I stood there reflecting and paying homage to my Wiley College ancestors who faced the realities of domestic terror in the south, I heard the word “RESOLVED,” in my heart, mind, soul, body, and spirit. During a debate, a resolve is a specific statement or question up for debate. It is also a determination to do or refrain from doing something. Resolve is to come to a conclusion. I asked God, what is the RESOLVE, or what is to be determined, as I engage, explore, and experience the museum? I was led to Psalm 118: 17. BE IT RESOLVED: “We (Black people) will not die, but live and proclaim what the Lord has done.” This is the story of MY people throughout all generations. We will not die, but live, and will proclaim what the Lord has done. Ancestor Maya Angelou with her soul’s conviction said it poignantly in her world-renowned poem, “And Still I Rise”: Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.   Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.   RESOLVED—We will not die, but live, and proclaim what the Lord has done.