According to the Sorting Hat

I have been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be brave. I realized recently that I really admire people who are courageous. This year, I find myself strongly drawn to individuals who boldly speak opinions, who stand up for the marginalized in spite of potential backlash, who refuse to let themselves be held back by fear. There is something irresistible about them. I can't seem to get enough of it.

At one point early in my freshman year at Gonzaga, many of the girls in my hall decided to get "sorted." As a product of the Harry Potter generation, each of us had been swept into the magic of Hogwarts and so we set out to avoid our papers and instead find out which of the wizarding houses we belonged in. Like many Harry Potter fans, I wanted to be in Gryffindor. Brave people are cool. I would settle for Ravenclaw since I also self-identified as smart. Imagine my horror when on-line test after on-line test sorted me as a Hufflepuff. Who wanted to known as being nice? My dramatic, teenage self took my placement as a sign that college would not go well for me.

Fast forward four years, and college had gone very well. Hufflepuffs are known for their primary trait of kindness as well as their hard-working natures, loyalty to the well-being of others, and honesty. Come to find out, though people may want to be Gryffindors, they want to be friends with Hufflepuffs. By the time I graduated, I completely embraced my Hufflepuff identity - I have a shirt and scarf to prove it. In an ironic repeat of history, my housemates also wanted to get sorted when we moved to DC. This time, I proudly took the Pottermore test (the most authentic test any Muggle can take) knowing that I would be a Hufflepuff.

The Sorting Hat did a curious thing, though. It made me a Gryffindor. I have never viewed myself as brave, and I still don't. But the sorting has made me pay attention to those around me who are brave. 

My housemates and I were at a bonfire last week with a bunch of people most of us did not know. Comments started being made that me uncomfortable. Comments that perpetuate stereotypes and violence. Little, seemingly innocuous statements that many people say but that I haven't heard in a while because of the people I am around this year: "that's so gay," "he's being such a girl." I didn't say anything and neither did any of my housemates though we are all aware of the impact of those words.

None of us said anything until someone sitting next to us made a comment about homeless people running around because they're crazy and then laughed. My whole body got warm. I could pretend to not hear the previous comments, but I knew something had to be said about this one. I knew if something was not said it would trivialize and disrespect the truth of my experience with everyone I love who has been, is, or will be homeless because of mental illness. I stared into the fire saddened by the ignorance of the words and scrambled to find my own words. My housemate Kaitlyn, who was also sorted into Gryffindor against her wishes (she wanted to be a Ravenclaw) and who works as a case manager for people who are homeless, didn't seem to hesitate with her words. She looked straight at the stranger and said, "You're an asshole."

Could she have handled that better? Of course. But as I listened to Kaitlyn explain what her experience has been with people who are homeless, many of whom do suffer from mental illness, I felt so much pride. In fact, I have never been more proud of any of my housemates. Why? Because Kaitlyn was brave. She heard something that was wrong and hurtful and she refused to be silent. She was in a position of vulnerability and yet still chose to stand up for those who are even more vulnerable. 

Audre Lorde, an amazing Black, woman, warrior poet, said that "when I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid." This is truth. In Harry Potter, Gryffindors were only at their best when they dared to stand up for others. In my life, I see a similar thing. At Joseph's House the vision is a radical one: everyone has
infinite worth. Belief in that truth is more important than my fear of disease, poverty, and death. Belief in the importance of service makes it less and less important whether I am afraid. The Bible says that perfect love drives out fear. How often have I confused fear for anger, confusion, or doubt? Too often, let me tell you. Love is the anti-thesis of fear. Love is what enables people to keep fighting  for their lives, for the lives of those they care about. Love is what makes it more and more important that I be brave.