“Expectations are resentments under construction,” wrote author Anne Lamott, a phrase which has been quoted many times and which aptly describes many moments in my life. In recent weeks I have brought my own expectations into various gatherings – some personal, some organizational. When these expectations were not met, or were ignored completely, I developed a sourness and carried a resentment that took over my psyche, which was nearly impossible to shake.
Sometimes I am able to recognize the folly of some of my expectations – that many of them are unrealistic, if not unfair; and the acknowledgement of their overreach then enables me to avoid the resentment, or at least minimize its impact.
Years ago, shortly after I became bishop in the Diocese of Newark, I was invited to be interviewed by New Jersey Public Television. I readily accepted, and walked across the street to the TV station, which was ensconced in a local hotel. I fully expected that the interview would be a low-key affair, conducted in a studio with equipment that would remind me of the AV club in high school. The interviewers, experienced TV journalists who were well known to most everyone in New Jersey (except me), played into my expectations. They eagerly chatted me up; one of them complained about the religious tradition he grew up in: “it’s not doing anything for me anymore”; and in their gentle welcome I prepared to answer questions about my family and what it was like to be a Red Sox fan in New Jersey. I would have an easy time of it.
I did – until the camera started rolling. What had been a coffee klatsch turned into an inquisition, or at least that is what it felt like. What did I think about abortion, about immigration, about the racial history of Newark? Where is the church headed? How will you deal with decline? If I offered a bland response, they pressed me further. Their questions were fair, but they had a hard edge. They didn’t let up.
I didn’t resent my inquisitors. They were doing their job; I hadn’t yet learned the media portion of mine. I didn’t exactly embarrass myself, but I came close. I did resent my naivete. I still cringe at the memory of being so unprepared. I have since learned – from various media trainers, that one needs to have a clear message when being interviewed, a message that gets repeated in several different ways.
Last week Donald Trump was interviewed at the National Association of Black Journalists’ Conference in Chicago. There may have been some chatting up before he appeared: talk about family, golf, or the Olympics. But when he took the stage, Rachel Scott of ABC News pressed him on some of his earlier comments on race. He took offense at the questions and the tone with which they were asked, expressing his own resentment and ratcheting up the level of resentment in the audience and on scores of media platforms. Resentment ruled. I can’t help but think that the former President, who has been interviewed thousands of times, was expecting hard edged questions, but he chose to focus on resentment.
Whether it was intentional or not, Mr. Trump’s initial resentment called forth – for me and for so many, the unmet expectations that so many of us carry. There is a seemingly endless list of our inability to agree: how to end the wars in the Middle East and Ukraine, how to make the economy work in a fair way, how to address abortion and guns, how to deal with climate, the fentanyl crisis, and immigration. Some expectations are unrealistic; many are misguided (depending on one’s perspective). All of them breed resentment.
Then Donald Trump weighed in on what he claimed was Kamala Harris’ confusion over her racial identity, and expectations and resentment entered a darker realm. I don’t know if Mr. Trump intended to be the provocateur (he has often said his intention when talking about race is not to inflame resentment, but reams of evidence suggest that he has); but in any case, the effect of his words rekindled the history of unmet expectations on the issue of race in America. A history that exposes structures and practices that favor those who are white over those who are not. Many say the structures and practices have been sufficiently reformed; that race is no longer a problem. Others say that the structures and practices of inequality have been mitigated to a degree, but many systems of racial injustice have simply been disguised, and therefore are not noticed.
Racial resentment continues to cripple the American soul. It is a wound that can be traced to America’s founding. Stoking resentment can have the effect of denying this festering wound. That just makes it worse, because people then escalate the resentment by resenting the “resenters”.
As a culture, we need to better manage expectations when it comes to race. This involves recognizing this wound in all of us – yes, in all of us. And to work at honoring difference, revising language that is inherently oppressive, and coming to terms with lessons that we learned along the way which overtly or covertly falsely (and sinfully) undermine a foundational American creed: that all men (and women are created equal.
