This is the story of how I fell in love with the Old Boys Club.
My Old Boys Club
We begin at the end, the point at which I became aware that I’d fallen in love with the Old Boys Club. Club members, my husband among them, were celebrating a teammate’s induction into the College Football Hall of Fame. My friend, Carlene Larsson, whose husband is also in The Club, wrote an email describing what happened to her, and to me, during that event.
I am still filled with awe at the whole experience of the luncheon to honor Dick. It was equally a celebration of a singular life well lived and of the bond that connected all the singular lives in the room. Rarely have I heard men speak so directly from their hearts and with such unabashed love and emotion. To be a witness was a privilege I will remember for my lifetime.
Thank you all.
Carlene
In the Beginning
My first encounter with The Club took place 30 years prior. Back then, and for many years to follow, I felt, and accepted, a sense of outsider-ness. I was an “other”. It seemed natural to “other” those I perceived to “other” me. And that’s what I did. I turned them into privileged insiders who didn’t understand the degree of privilege they held.
There were some truths that contributed to this dynamic. I did not attend the same Ivy League school. I did not play football on their team. I hadn’t been inundated with the messages they received about what it meant to attend, play varsity sports for, and represent the long-standing history of this Ivy League school. In my mind, they were higher up on some ladder of status than I was.
Over time, my attitude began to change. My heart began to open, and I perceived “them” to be more open in return.
Inside and Outside
One of the experiences that influenced this change took place during a class reunion.
A notable member of the reunion’s graduating class had just donated a book to the school’s historical library. It is, to date, the earliest known book written by an African American woman.
Enslaved.
The unveiling ceremony took place during reunion weekend. I decided to attend. Walking to the library, I ran into the notable person, introduced myself and shared my excitement about being present at the book’s unveiling. He invited me to join him, so we walked in together. I didn’t realize until later, that the event was by written invitation only. The majority of the guests were members of a different club. One that included very accomplished black scholars. It’s something I am not. I was, nevertheless, welcomed.*
Being an outsider is, to some degree, a perception.
That perception reinforces the insider-outsider split. We are all, in fact, part of the larger club called Human Beings. The Old Boys Club that I know was not created to exclude others, but to grow the bonds of love among and between its members. This love extends itself to, and embraces, others. With her permission, next week’s post will be about Carlene’s experience of being embraced and held by The Boys’ love.
In the End
Carlene’s email describes a demonstration of the love and compassion that connects us to our humanity and to each other. THIS is what changes the insider outsider phenomenon. It happens when your heart is open. On this day my heart was open. In turn, I heard the Old Boys’ hearts.
I invite you to read Carlene’s very moving story of seeing love among, and for, These Boys.
*Seeing that book, letters beautifully and carefully scripted by a woman living an enslaved life, was an amazing experience. It sent my heart and mind in many directions. I can see her writing even now, in my mind’s eye.
P.S. I prefer to think of myself not so much as a feminist but a humanist, who would advocate for men, if women had been the captain’s of industry.
Also of interest – A guide to infiltrating the Good Ole Boys Club