Dictionaries usually define a risk in one of three ways: (1) dangers to our bodies or life, (2) the chance an investment may lose value, (3) or the perils within the terms of an insurance contract. When you think of the word risk, what do you think of? The first definition is what came to my mind first. I am guessing that one of these notions of a risk is what came to your mind too. After all, language reinforces culture and vice versa. The dictionary is reflecting what we culturally think and believe. But more than that, the dictionary definitions of risk also conveys what we value. We stand in awe of those people who embrace the risks associated with the first two definitions of risk. People who face physical risks to themselves to aid others, like first responders, certainly deserve our admiration and gratitude for their selflessness and public service. Our capitalist culture encourages us to stand in awe of venture capitalists who place their wealth at risk in emergent companies and somehow manage to turn it into greater wealth. In these public cases of risk, part of what makes the behavior admirable to us is not just the assumption of risk by these individuals. What also makes it admirable is their conquering of fear to embrace the risk. Many of us probably appreciate that not everyone can conquer their fear sufficiently to fight a fire or invest their life savings. And even if we did, we appreciate that it still takes skill and knowledge to do the thing even once you’re past the fear.
But, are those three kinds of risks a sufficient or robust enough definition of what constitutes risk? Clearly they are indeed kinds of risks. But firefighters, police, soldiers, entrepreneurs, and the like, are hardly the only people who take risks. We all do! Risks are as diverse as we are.
Sure, some risks are universal and something we can all recognize as a risk, like the threat of bodily harm. But beyond some universals lie a range of diverse risks based on each of our idiosyncrasies, fears, strengths, and life experiences. This makes many risks subjective. What may seem risky to some may not to others.
Did my sermon on paradox on March 25th seem a risk? I suspect it did not seem risky to some of you. But for me it was. Publicly talking about being a religious humanist, nontheist pagan, and adorer of the goddess Diana was an emotional risk for me. That’s not a part of myself I let just anyone know about. After having been hassled by some theists for not being theist enough, and some nontheists for not being nontheist enough, I had found it safer to keep that part of myself generally private. So even though that was not the kind of risk that fits the dictionary definitions, a glorious feat of death-defying heroism or daredevilism, and even though might have been a risk for many other people, that does not diminish the fact that I faced a fear of vulnerability, summoned courage, and took what was a risk for me. And I am grateful that I did, and deeply appreciate the loving response I received. Similarly, we all regularly take what are risks for ourselves. It is important to remind ourselves of that fact and celebrate overcoming our fears and taking the risks we take. That it may not fit the definition of risk for others or our culture is beside the point. Please remember to give yourself credit for the risks you take, whatever they may be. And at the same time, it is important to strive to do the same for others too. Just because something is easy for us does not mean others are not engaging in risk-taking for themselves when they do it. Those around us may appreciate our sensitivity to and acknowledgement of their risks. We are all risk-takers in our own ways. Let’s celebrate them!
Joel Tishken