Harry Chapin’s song “Flowers Are Red” expresses what I think invariably happens to us as we go through life. We lose our ability to imagine. Someone else’s “reality” replaces our imagination and we buy into the notion that “Flowers Are Red”…

The little boy went first day of school
He got some crayons and started to draw
He put colors all over the paper
For colors was what he saw
And the teacher said.. What you doin’ young man
I’m paintin’ flowers he said
She said… It’s not the time for art young man
And anyway flowers are green and red
There’s a time for everything young man
And a way it should be done
You’ve got to show concern for everyone else
For you’re not the only one

And she said…
Flowers are red young man
Green leaves are green
There’s no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen

But the little boy said…
There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one

Well the teacher said.. You’re sassy
There’s ways that things should be
And you’ll paint flowers the way they are
So repeat after me…..

And she said…
Flowers are red young man
Green leaves are green
There’s no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen

But the little boy said…
There are so many colors in the rainbow
So many colors in the morning sun
So many colors in the flower and I see every one

The teacher put him in a corner
She said.. It’s for your own good..
And you won’t come out ’til you get it right
And all responding like you should
Well finally he got lonely
Frightened thoughts filled his head
And he went up to the teacher
And this is what he said.. and he said

Flowers are red, green leaves are green
There’s no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen

Time went by like it always does
And they moved to another town
And the little boy went to another school
And this is what he found
The teacher there was smilin’
She said…Painting should be fun
And there are so many colors in a flower
So let’s use every one

But that little boy painted flowers
In neat rows of green and red
And when the teacher asked him why
This is what he said.. and he said

Flowers are red, green leaves are green
There’s no need to see flowers any other way
Than the way they always have been seen.

I know this poem to be true in my own life. Seeing the beauty in a Muslim friend’s life, I hear people tell me it cannot be so. “You know those Muslims – want to take over the world – bunch of terrorists.” There’s no need to see Muslim people any other way than the way they’ve always been seen.

I encounter this poem in the church. Wrestling with Bible passages that call upon people to put gays to death, stone rebellious children, and commit terrible acts of genocide, I hear people say, “God said it. I believe it. And that settles it.” There’s no need to see the Bible any other way than the way its always been seen.

And I find this poem at work deep within my own psyche. I am a human being shaped by my culture, my family, my experiences, my education, my relationships. They are my red flowers, my green leaves in a row. Collectively, they define who I think I am.

But am I?