This is my country, my culture, my world and I am guilty of allowing a stain to persist. We have many successes, many failures as a nation, a culture. One of our most harm-filled cultural sins is racism. It is systemic and evil and not leaving unless we acknowledge our culpability as white people in its perpetuation. This is a beautiful land filled with abundance unequally shared and I have benefited greatly from its wealth and the privilege due to my whiteness.
Since our beginning as a nation we have struggled to define, to find, to form a moral core. This core has been claimed by many, and many have attempted to shape it in a way they believe to be right. Now over two centuries of journeying it is clear the moral core of this beautiful place has been corrupted by our inability to understand that all people are created equal, all people are born with the same value as reflections of the divine. Yet we have been overthrown by one dominant narrative.
This dominating narrative is controlled and formed by white males. To me it is this simple, white maleness is seen as the preferred expression of humanness in our culture. You can argue the subtleties of this fact but you can not argue its truth. It forms our contrived expression of moral, ethical, spiritual and physical rightness. Recent events make this fact clear, we are a nation shackled with a shallow, hopelessly narrow view of what our identity is, our morality, our image.
I grew up steeped in stories of courage, of power, of sacrifice, of victory all framed with a smiling white man as the victor, hero or savior. Even our images of the true savior have been white-washed. This contrived imagery was the stuff I lived in, it was what I ate, what I breathed, what I learned and lived. I was bathed in a culture of superiority, of privilege, of correctness. I was slowly, inexplicably taught to see myself as better than anyone who did not look like me, think like me, live like me, eat like me, smell like me. I was shown that this fact was indisputable and unchangeable.
I was oblivious to this self elevation, my friends, my culture all protected the resulting privilege and control at any costs. Slowly I started to question, to wonder, to see the flaws that this world was built upon. Quickly, almost automatically my skepticism was corrected and I was brought back to the fold. I wanted to be brought back, the world I lived in was comfortable and bucolic, immune to strife and questioning. I remember as a teenager a different family came to look at a house for sale on our street. Every house watched in fear, in anger at the audacity of this different family actually daring to come into our world let alone ponder living there.
How could those people afford it. How could they think it was acceptable. After they left one by one neighbors made it clear to the sellers, to the realtor that those people can not live here. This was the stuff of my youth, constant lessons in superiority, never direct or blatant but always effective.
Later as an adult with four beautiful children I was faced with a choice. Do I break the cycle of racism embodied in ignorance, in hate, in fear or do I learn a new way of being. During this searching I decided to become a follower of Christ and my heart, my mind, my eyes began to see a different vision. I began classes at seminary and was exposed to people, to ideas, to theologies, to views from all over the world. One particular day I was holding a beautiful bi-racial boy we had just adopted. I was reading “God of the Oppressed” by Jame Cone and my world exploded.
I knew that day that I could not go back, that I had to move toward a new understanding. Through more adoptions and a trans-formative friendship with a man from Soweto, South Africa, my journey did change and I am thank filled for the transformation. There was a fundamental shift in how I saw everything and I believe I saw a truer image of humanity. Yet, I sit today struggling with the guilt of my inactivity, my apathy, my fear of saying too much, of making too many waves. I fear I may have been silent too long, said too little, let too much slide.
You see I am a father to several children of color and I am scared for their safety, their future, their lives. They do not enjoy the same benefits offered by this culture that I do, for one simple reason, skin. Every time one of them drives away I pray they will come home safely. I can never understand what they feel, what they experience, what they fear because they are black. I am guilty of creating the world that has a view of them that is less than others, less valued but more feared. My apathy has limited my children, limited them in tangible ways and I am guilty of perpetuating our cultural sin of racism.
So today as I celebrated the mother of my beautiful children I am going to stop letting my voice be quieted, whether by my fear, or others perception and expectations. I will challenge the leaders I know and admire to stop being quiet. To start using their platforms to speak out as the prophetic and spiritual leaders they are called to be. We all need to confront the cultural sin of racism and the part we play in its perpetuation. I will confront prejudice, racism, ignorance when and where I see it, no matter who is experiencing it. I will tell my friends to learn, to read, to talk, to open their hearts and minds to different views, people and cultures.
Encourage them to begin the same journey I did years ago and not to give into the fear I did when they see a different way. I let my fear cause me to fail my God, my call to speak truth in love, my children, my family and myself. I will stay quiet no longer, I will stand up for my children no matter what they look like or live like or think like. I will no longer allow apathy to win, to destroy, to limit, to control what God created to be free, to be empowered, to be loved.
Each and every person born on this earth past, present, and future is owed the same benefit and privilege me and my fellow white brothers and sisters take for granted. I have decided to seek justice, to love mercy, to walk humbly as I live out the promise of the image that is implanted in each of us. Will you join me or stay on your comfortable couch?
Here are some of the books I read to see the world differently:
“God of the Oppressed” by James Cone
“Faces at the Bottom of the Well” by Derrick Bell
“Gospel Choirs” by Derrick Bell
“Afrolantica Legacies” by Derrick Bell
"The Color of Law” by Richard Rothstein
There are many more volumes you could choose please start somewhere.