The Prayer

           More than twenty years ago a friend of mine asked me to attend an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. It was a meeting that they had been encouraged to bring a friend, and I never considered not going. The meeting was held in the basement of a local church. I was impressed by the sincerity of everyone involved. There was an atmosphere of empathy, humility, and honesty that was more than palpable. The group included males and females, old, young and middle-aged. Blacks, Latino, and whites.

          I listened to stories of strength and weakness, success and failure. I witnessed smiles, hugs, laughter and tears. But, the thing that I noticed above all else… the thing that invaded my consciousness and attached itself to my soul to this very moment, was the prayer. They said it in unison to start the meeting. They said it in unison to end the meeting.

          I have been saying and listening to prayer my entire life, but none had felt as true, relevant, inspirational, and life-changing as this one. I was thinking of the prayer when I left the meeting, and I found myself thinking of it in the days and weeks that followed. Each time I thought of it, regardless of the situation I may have found myself in at the time, the words of the prayer seemed instructive, comforting, and inspirational. As the years went by, the prayer proved to be the prayer for all seasons.

          One day more than ten years ago I was wandering through the local mall when I saw the prayer engraved on a wooden plaque. I snatched it up immediately. I had only recently been named Principal of a notorious high school in Prince George’s County, Maryland, and I knew exactly where I would mount it. The prayer would spend the next nine years mounted directly behind the desk in my office. I could not sit at my desk without seeing it, and no one could face me in my office without seeing it either.

“God, Grant Me the Serenity, to Accept the Things I Cannot Change…”

          I have always had a quiet, calm, demeanor. I don’t normally yell or scream about anything. However, being Principal of a large high school would try the patience of anyone. Nevertheless, the successful Principal must be the eye of the storm, and I eventually began to notice how often students, staff, parents, and community members marveled at how calm I always seemed to be. Serenity is a blessing, but it is impossible to achieve if you cannot accept those things that you have neither the power or influence to change. The prayer on my wall reminded me of that. Every. Single. Day. Every time I sat at my desk, either consciously or subconsciously, I asked God to help me to accept my limitations.

          Today, that has not changed. As my country struggles to deal with unprecedented challenges, as children are slaughtered in their classrooms with weapons designed for the battlefield, as our public officials allow themselves to be stained by the bigotry, racism, xenophobia, and misogyny emanating from the White House, the prayer is more necessary than ever. 

          If I could remove every military-style weapon from every civilian, If I could outlaw their future sales and impose debilitating fines and lifetime jail sentences for violating that law, I would. If I could remove Donald Trump from the presidency, if I could imprison every person involved in anyway with selling our democracy to the Russians, I would do that.

          It pisses me off that I can’t do those things. Some might yell, scream, or break something. I don’t do that. The prayer gives me Serenity.

“Courage to Change the Things I Can…”

          How much courage does it take to integrate a high school in Alabama in 1967? To join the Marine Corps during the Viet Nam War? How about integrating a major University in Alabama in 1973? I really don’t know, but I did it. A lot of the people I knew at the time thought I was showing more stupidity than courage. I do not know if my life has been what one would call a profile in courage, but I can say with great confidence that I have consistently been different.

          It takes courage to be different. I told my students this all the time. It takes courage to make great grades when your friends don’t care. It takes courage to go to college when your friends go to prison. I told my teachers this all the time. It takes courage to show up everyday when your co-workers stay home at will and still gets paid. It takes courage to be prepared with exciting, relevant, and innovative lesson plans when other teachers wing it… getting paid the same or more than you.

          I did many things as a Principal that other Principals did not do. I did some things I was not instructed to do. I did not do some of the things I was instructed to do.

          No one doubted that I was willing to change those things I could change. Every time anyone sat down in my office they saw it in writing, right behind my desk. Today, I search for those things that I can do to make my country a better place. As I discover those things, I will continue to use the prayer, to find the courage to act.

“And the Wisdom to Know the Difference…”

          I never knew my biological father, but I was told that he was an alcoholic. He died at the age of 53. I have never been a heavy drinker. I have never been a smoker. I have never used drugs. My stepfather was a minister. I grew up in the church, hearing countless sermons, countless prayers. I remember none of them.

          Fortunately, a friend invited me to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Fortunately, I went. I heard a prayer that moved me, inspired me, and became my guiding light.

          Thank God, and my friend.

“Amen…”