The word patience carries different kinds of emotional baggage depending on the context. A few months ago I heard a homily from a Catholic priest asking for patience with the Catholic church in its struggle with LGBTQIA+ issues. I didn't take it well---it resonated with my understanding of the history of the civil rights movement, wherein people who were not used to treating people of color as fully human would constantly ask more patience of the folk being discriminated against. Change doesn't happen overnight but perhaps faster than decades and centuries would be more appropriate.
Since then I've tried to analyze my feelings about the experience, because they were stronger and more lasting than I expected them to be. I'm still working on it but a few things that I feel represent who I am:
1) I am very privileged in my life and need to show patience to others more than they need to show it to me about 99.99% of the time.
2) Patience is sacrifice; when the powerful ask the powerless for patience, they are asking for more sacrifice on top of what has already been given, doubling down on what harm has already been caused.
More as I figure it out---
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