Safe Spaces

White spaces. Black spaces. Diverse spaces. My favorite are safe spaces. Spaces where I feel safe. A space I can feel like I belong. A space where I can trust that my words won’t be twisted. My looks won’t be judged.

White spaces. AAALLLL BLACK SPACES. DIVERSE SPACES. All have held good and bad experiences. Some have scarred me. Those wounds have healed.

Some of these spaces have healed me more than I thought they could. Some of these spaces have changed me in ways I never expected.

ALL WHITE SPACES. Don’t scare me as much. I know who I am and what I bring to the table. I’ve come to the conclusion that I belong in every space that I want to be in these days.

ALL BLACK SPACES. Have been things I’ve longed for. Spaces I realized don’t need a lot of prep. Spaces that have felt immediately familiar. Spaces where I’ve taken the deepest of breaths.

DiVeRsE SpAcEs. Have disappointed me sometimes. Been the biggest let down. Made promises that it could never keep. And actually looked more white than diverse to me.

These spaces have been cloaked in a desire to be more biblical.

But really, just more white.

I continue to have high hopes for diverse spaces.

Wanting churches, businesses and communities to get it right.

To be welcoming of everyone. Safe for everyone. And intentional of their space. Asking questions like: how accessible is this space for everyone from all walks of life?

But somewhere between all of those spaces — the ones that scarred me, the ones that healed me, the ones that disappointed me — I started learning something about safety itself.

What I’ve been learning about safety is that it requires honesty, trust, and vulnerability.

What I’m learning about safety is that it requires repair, conflict, and compromise.

What I’m learning about safety is that it requires respect, mutuality, and shared power.

Some spaces I thought were safe were really just controlled.

Managed.

Overly parental.

But what I’m learning about safety NOW is that my body doesn’t need to know she is 100% safe — she can rest with the FEELING of being safe enough…

The safe enough feeling reminds me to look for safety cues.

Safety cues of the birds chirping.

The safety cues of my daughter running toward me when I get home.

The safe enough safety cues of my kids singing and yelling at the top of their lungs to Wicked for the millionth time — as we sing in unison Elphaba’s “IT’S ME!!!”

I’m learning that safety cues come from my husband asking me every day — Babe, what do you need? How can I help you today?

Safety cues are all around me.

Even in a world ridden by grief, sorrow, and now war.

Safety cues are within me. In my body.

Hidden within the crevices of my soul.

Reminding me, like the old church mothers would say — my soul is anchored in the Lord.

And even the safety cues that activate a fight or flight response — I’ve learned to stop and thank my body.

Because that too is safety.

That is my body doing exactly what she was made to do.

Protecting me.

Working for me.

Safety cues are actually all around me.

So I’ll ask you — what are yours? Who makes you feel safe?

What makes you feel safe?

Where do you feel the safest?

Joi McGowan