A Life

Yesterday I attended a funeral. I hadn’t seen, nor talked to, Sterling in about twenty-five years. When I was told of his death, I was shocked. I always remembered him as a healthy, vital man. Of course, a lot can change in twenty-five years. The other shock was that Sterling was about six weeks younger than I am. It’s always hard to see that. Even though it had been twenty-five years, I was drawn to attend his funeral. I’m still trying to figure out why. Even back then, we weren’t particularly close. Sterling was my supervisor for eight years in the nineties.

Maybe it’s because that was such a challenging time in my life. It was my first job in Human Resources. I was traveling all over the world as the company I worked for was expanding at a rapid rate. Much of that traveling was done with Sterling.

Maybe it’s because working with Sterling made me realize an important lesson for the rest of my life. I’m not meant for the corporate world. Sterling was the ultimate corporation man. It suited him. In his way, he knew that it was not for me. He guided me to some important decisions. He was, in many ways, a mentor. Obviously, we didn’t agree on many things in the HR world, but he was always respectful to me.

Maybe it’s because I learned, firsthand, about my white privilege while traveling with Sterling in the deep south. Sterling was a black man, raised in Mobile, Alabama. He and I attended an information gathering meeting with four white men from a paper mill in Selma, Alabama. It was made clear to them that Sterling was the boss, and I was there to assist. Yet, all the questions and conversation were directed toward me. Sterling and I discussed this afterward and he told me he gets that all the time. He also told me how he often gets followed in stores. This opened my eyes.

I attended the funeral, and I’m glad I did. I knew Sterling for eight years in the 1990’s. The funeral gave me an entirely different view of the man. I only knew a small slice of Sterling’s life. The impression that I got over those eight years, was the image I attached to him for the rest of my life. How wrong I was.

This made me realize that that is true for all of us. We show a small piece of ourselves to everyone in our life. Of course, our close families know us the best. But we even hold our own private things from them. Didn’t Walt Whitman say something about us being multitudes? Humans are complicated. Every one of us is complex. That’s why it is important to keep an open mind in our dealings with others. My favorite quote comes to mind. “Everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about, so be kind always”.

Goodbye to Sterling. In spite of us being such different people, I’m glad he was in my life for eight of my, so far, seventy-one years.