Once Upon a Time, There Was Only We

What Father Boyle and the Zanders taught me about shifting from “TheM” to “We”

When I walk my dog, Sombra, I usually listen to podcasts or music. Recently on one of these long walks, I heard an interview with author Father Gregory Boyle, who founded Homeboy Industries, one of the most successful gang intervention programs in the country.

Father Boyle talked about his decision to lead the poorest church in the gang capital of the world, Los Angeles, CA, and his dedication to working with gang members, ex-felons, and other young people all lost in the darkness of their own violent circumstances. These people he helps bring aggression and anger to many of their interactions. Father Boyle explained that to reach the human being within, he must first shift his perspective. “There is no them, only we,” he said. I heard these words and slowed to a stop on the sidewalk.

He went on to explain that thinking “we” instead of “them” enables us to be curious about behavior rather than to vilify it, to ask why we would do that instead of judging why they did that. “If I include them in us, then my heart is more likely to open up and bring love to the situation, bring healing rather than denunciation.”

These people he engages with every day have done seemingly terrible things in their lives, easily marking them as other, but when Father Boyle chooses “only we,” he removes the label, the battle lines between them, removes the superficial distinctions that keep him separate from them. He embraces them as beings connected to him, connected to God. They are all the same, all we.

I pondered my own interactions and thoughts about “others.” As much as I believe we are all connected, I don’t often see anyone around me as we. Differences in appearance, in beliefs, in demeanor, even in grammar, all contribute to my mental label machine that spits out tidy letters declaring them OTHER. 

Every once in a while, when I bring presence to the here and now and especially when I release control of the outcome, I draw closer to we. And even then, I may not see or feel the change between me and the other person – at least not immediately. But “only we” is the long game where there are no sides and loving connection is the only score that matters. 

Sometimes giving to others is the closest I can get to thinking and feeling we – giving my kindness, understanding, forgiveness, love, my time and talent, even tangible things like my homemade scones (aka buttery triangles of deliciousness). When I give without expectation and without comparison to another’s behavior, I blur the lines of distinction between us. I put the emphasis on connecting through love over anything else.

Rosamund Stone Zander and her husband, Benjamin Zander, have their own version of “only we” in their leadership book The Art of Possibility – they call it “telling the WE story.” And like Father Boyle, they emphasize a perspective shift from them to us. “It’s an ongoing choice for all of us – when a lover neglects to call, a colleague lets us down, or someone surpasses us, we can choose to tell the story of the We or the story of the Other.”

During my final and most stressful months at the hospital system where I worked for almost 16 years, my CEO demoted my role to report to another executive instead of him. A clear sign things were not going well for me. My new boss and I had very different leadership styles and very different opinions on how things should be done. Circumstances grew increasingly challenging, and I leaned into my antagonistic thoughts about her. Doubtless, she did the same about me. 

For a time, I convinced myself I was trying to work with her and be a partner in moving our relationship forward. After all, I brought all my considerable positive energy to the situation, but I forgot to tell the WE story. There was her doing all the things I disagreed with or found irritating, and there was me, trying to “make it work” despite my frustration. I put us firmly on opposite sides of the playing field. 

I don’t know what the we story would have looked like during that time, but I know the telling would have flowed from a place of love rather than fear, a place of best interests rather than irritation and defensiveness. Our we story likely would have ended the same. The role was no longer right for me or for the organization. I was meant to end my time there. But the events leading to that ending would have unfolded differently, with more honesty, more loving kindness between us. Definitely less angst and stress.

Almost four years have passed since I left that job. My former boss now leads a children’s hospital in another state. Not long ago, I dreamed we saw each other at an event. She rushed over to embrace me with a beautiful smile on her face. We laughed and talked. The reunion both astonished me and lightened my heart. I now felt only we when before there had been only other. 

I woke up and knew the dream had been God’s nudge to reach out to her. Here’s what I would have you do. So, I texted her that day. I told her about my dream and that I wished her joy and every success. I did not expect anything from her. My only intention was to tend the loving connection that exists between us. 

To my amazement and delight, I received a kind and sincere message in response. This busy, important woman, who owes me nothing and could have easily ignored my outreach, chose instead to join me in the we story.

I know reality will likely never mirror my dream. She and I will not embrace or strike up a long-distance friendship or start exchanging heartfelt notes, but it’s enough that for a brief text exchange we honored the connection between us. Now when I think of her, I see only we, and my heart lifts. Perhaps she does the same.

It's a courageous leap of faith to trust more in our connectedness than in the immediate and obvious acquisitions our egos convince us we need – getting what’s mine, getting even, being right, being important, being better than those others. We risk being thought foolish, soft, crazy even, when we include everyone as ours and focus more on telling the we story than on scoring our own individual points. Every time I have the presence to put down my individual story, I free my mind to take up our collective story, the one that connects me through Love to everyone and everything.

When I open my heart to the perfect divinity within each of us, I remember there has never been Them – there has always only been We.

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