{"id":34513,"date":"2023-09-18T18:50:00","date_gmt":"2023-09-18T18:50:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.interfaithamerica.org\/?p=34513"},"modified":"2023-09-18T18:50:04","modified_gmt":"2023-09-18T18:50:04","slug":"curiosity-can-be-vulnerable","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.interfaithamerica.org\/article\/curiosity-can-be-vulnerable\/","title":{"rendered":"Curiosity Can be Vulnerable, but It Can Teach Us a lot about Each Other"},"content":{"rendered":"\t\t
My friend Karen recently asked for my take on the word \u201ccuriosity.\u201d She belongs to an anti-racism committee at her Christian church, Plymouth Congregational. <\/span><\/p> Plymouth has been around for a long time. The only other church that has been around for almost as long is Corinthian Baptist Church. Both churches are only three miles away, but since the 150 years they have been established, neither church has made large-scale efforts to talk to each other. Karen had a hypothesis as to why: race. Plymouth\u2019s congregation is predominantly white. Corinthian\u2019s congregation is primarily Black. These racial and cultural differences affect how each community practices Christianity.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Karen felt that these differences masked the similarities that bound both congregations together. She worked with her anti-racism committee to commit to a year of bridge-building with Corinthian Baptist Church. Karen called the project \u201cConnecting with Curiosity.\u201d In the spirit of bridge-building, Karen thought \u201ccuriosity\u201d was the first place to start. But some members of her anti-racism committee disagreed. For them, \u201ccuriosity\u201d was a bad word. When Karen told me this, at first, I was confused. Wasn\u2019t \u201ccuriosity\u201d a universally positive comment? Like \u201crainbow?\u201d Or \u201cvacation?\u201d<\/span>\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> According to a few of Karen\u2019s committee members, curiosity is overly intellectual: it comes from the head, not the heart. Curiosity is the word used to describe a scientific researcher with a hypothesis who collects data to determine if this hypothesis is false. Interfaith allies are apparently not scientists.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> \u201cIs curiosity a bad word?\u201d I asked myself this question as I sat in front of my keyboard, not yet ready to compose an email reply to Karen. Then, a memory caught me by surprise. A memory from my childhood. A memory from daycare.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Spoiler alert: I hated daycare.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> I hated the food, <\/span>especially<\/span><\/i> \u201cants on a log.\u201d Yes, the peanut-butter-coated celery sticks topped with raisins. My peanut allergy transformed this gourmet toddler treat into a nightmare. While my peers happily munched away, I sat at the peanut-free table with my untouched \u201craisins on a stick.\u201d\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> But there was something, <\/span>someone, <\/span><\/i>I hated even more than this dreadful snack. Steven.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> Steven was a little older than me, and he made it clear that he didn\u2019t like me. He never smiled at me and cringed when I protested nap time. He scowled when I talked during reading time. But strangest of all, he shuddered at the sight of my <\/span>patka. Because of my Sikh faith, I choose not to cut my hair. When I was five, my hair touched my lower back. A \u201cpatka\u201d was the cloth I used to cover my hair at school.<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p> One day, Steven approached me on the playground. He reached up from behind with deft hands and pulled my patka off my head. My long, black curls came tumbling down. Cackling, Steven sprinted off towards the blacktop as if his secret mission had gone as planned.\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t\t\t\t<\/div>\n\t\t<\/section>\n\t\t\t\t