Growing up in middle America in the 1970’s, I attended a high school with exactly one African American student in a class size of almost 700. I don’t remember thinking much about that except thinking that the low number must have been because of the relative proportion of blacks to whites in general, not bothering to really do the math. To this day, I remember his name.
I don’t really remember discussing racism at home, but the general concept of loving everyone in spite of color was. I was raised to think for myself, and whether it was nature or nurture, I questioned just about everything, parental authority included.
In college, I went on a couple of dates with a black guy and later defended an old high school friend who got pregnant by a black boy and whose dad threatened to kill said father-to-be. In college, I was exposed to diversity and I had friends of all colors. Later on, I taught preschool to four-year old’s and had one black little girl that sat among 4 white children and one Hispanic boy. I distinctly remember marveling that four-year old’s don’t see color. All that doesn’t feel like racism. To a white person.
To really affect change for the better, one must, I must, look within. Everyone needs to check the pulse on the truth of what they espouse. I had the occasion to have a serious heart to heart discussion with a couple of black, Christian friends just on the heels of George Floyd being killed and the aftermath of anger that boiled over. I left that discussion forever changed.
There was a story (link) that spread on social media of a black man taking his little girl on a walk in the evening. Holding her small hand in his one hand and the leash of their family pet in the other, they headed down the street. In the story, the man explained that he only goes on walks with both his child and his dog because as such, he’s seen as a loving dad and family man out for an evening stroll. But if you take away the dog and you take away the child, he’s left with walking in his neighborhood as a lone black man. In one scene he is not questioned for being in his surroundings. In the other one, he is not only questioned but his reality knows that life can change on a dime. He simply doesn’t go out for walks without his two companions. That changed the fabric of how I saw my black friends and colleagues and what they are up against on a daily basis, a lifelong existence.
As a woman, I know I need to be careful when I’ve gotten out of my car late at night, making sure I had a key in my hand to use as a weapon if needed, or mace, or look around to make sure no one was going to come up behind. I’m careful what time I shop or where I park my car. As a woman, I know there is a real possibility of becoming another statistic of rape. It’s a story no man understands. I don’t fault the man for not having to find the weapon key, or not needing to look over his shoulder wherever he walks, or getting to park anywhere he wants, oblivious to his surroundings, but I do hold him accountable for understanding where this threat comes from for the women in his life and making sure he is part of the solution by educating young boys into being caring, respectful and gentle, men.
But see, my being a woman might come with a small chance of violence dependent on where I work or where I hang out or how late I happen to go someplace or any number of factors. Being black is a skin color that doesn’t change according to circumstance. The threat remains the same. All because he or she is a different COLOR. That’s the MATTER part of Black Lives Matter.
I speak up for these friends of mine, those who should not have to even ask their white counterparts to do so, but it’s where we are but hopefully not where we’re going.
This dialogue doesn’t diminish one iota of my love and respect for every officer I know and hold dear. It has no left or right leaning, it is not red versus blue. It is black only. The older I get, the less political I become, the more I rely on the teachings of one humble man named Jesus and the more people I embrace. It is this collective body of all people that makes us the body of one.
If I ask you to do one thing, I ask that it be that you stand up and speak up. Use your voice to squelch the hate. If you can’t speak up, I implore you to listen. Ask to hear the stories of your black friend or associate. Lean in to their pain and just listen. We don’t have to agree on politics or religion, but I sure hope we can agree that the world needs more love.
Be kind to all,
Elaine
