A few years ago, deep in the heart of rural China, I was sitting in my student Ling’s home. While her mom and sister-in-law prepared lunch, Ling, her dad, brother, and nieces entertained me. Once most of the food was prepared, we gathered around the table and began to eat while Mom and her 媳妇, daughter-in-law finished the cooking and served us.

In some rural homes I’ve visited, the women, especially the 媳妇 or daughters-in-law who perhaps have the lowest position in the family, have come into view only when serving food. Presumably, they ate in the kitchen while the rest of the family and guests consumed what they had prepared. In Ling’s home, however, Mom eventually took a seat at the table. 媳妇, Daughter-in-law, sat in the room but off to the side. Mom joined the conversation. Every time I glanced Daughter-in-law’s way, she was obviously tracking with the conversation, smiling and laughing when the rest of us did, but she never spoke a word.

Scenes like the one above exposed me to a tradition in rural Chinese society of 重男轻女, giving precedence to males over females. Further exposure came along the roads leading deep into rural China where various public service announcements were painted on the sides of buildings and posted on signs. They reminded families to provide adequate medical care for wives and daughters (and not only for the males) and to keep daughters in school (rather than pulling them out to contribute to family finances by sending them out to work or marrying them off for a bride price). One mural read, “Girls can also become pillars of our society.”

During this visit to Ling’s home, as I observed Daughter-in-law’s position in the family, I considered for the first time how women in rural society are traditionally denied a seat at the table. Literally in this instance. And in many cases figuratively. On other forays into out-of-the-way places, I’ve met women who have had little choice about how to live their lives and no voice in family decisions. Some have offered personal details like, “I never learned to read. My mom had my younger brothers to care for, and no one else could walk me to school.” Lack of education had lowered their position further and eaten away at their confidence until they believed they didn’t deserve a seat at the table.

In contrast, my own childhood was colored by books, learning, school, and daily dinner times where I was given a seat at the table, invited to share my ideas and contribute to the family dialog. Throughout my life, my birth, background, and nationality have given me access to myriad opportunities. As a result, I’ve almost always had a seat at the table. In rare instances when my place has been usurped by someone else, I could draw on confidence instilled in me through my upbringing and opportunities. I believed in my right to be there and felt some freedom to choose whether to battle for my place or not.

In my “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” home society, people can easily be snared by the belief—a subtle, sneaky one—that they’ve earned their place at the table. In reality, having a seat at the table is an “accident of birth.” Being born into a family, situation, and society which afford opportunities and a seat at the table is a gift from our Maker, one we deserve no more than any other human on this earth.

I’ve been caught in the snare of self-importance. Subconsciously believing that my efforts have earned me a seat at the table, I’ve often failed to see how for people like Daughter-in-law no amount of hard work can lead them out from under society’s “less than” labels. Worse, I’ve been blind to the feelings of shame and helplessness society’s labels create and have waxed eloquent from my exalted position about their responsibility rather than listening and learning from their experiences.

We have ways out of the trap of self-importance. We can amplify the voices of people like Daughter-in-law or create opportunities for them that build their confidence and raise them up. With these steps, though, comes the risk of feeding our sense of self-importance as we look down from the table and pat one another on the back for how we’re helping.

The only true escape I find is to keep looking to my Maker. Before raising us up, He ceded His well-deserved seat at the table and sat shoulder to shoulder with us, down on the floor. Still today, He’s there with us, shining light on the way out. When we’re ready, He links arms with us, in a tight hold, for the struggle up from the floor to His table. There, sinners like us are welcomed as friends, and those society labels “least” are seated with honor.

Photo by Angela Roma : https://www.pexels.com/photo/wooden-table-served-with-traditional-asian-food-7364009/.