I can’t breathe. Those were the words of George Floyd heard around the world. The words that sparked a movement, a powerful upswell from those who have been holding their breath for way too long.
As a person who has only experienced white privilege, there is no imagining what everyday life is for anyone who is different. Whether that difference is of skin color, or sexual orientation, or ethnicity.
I stood for those 8 minutes and 46 seconds during the memorial service for George Floyd. An agonizingly long time to think about not being able to move or breathe. It was hard enough just to stand still for that amount of time and the tears flowed freely. I can sympathize, as can many of you, and many of you can empathize because you have been there – the object of someone else’s prejudice.
And it had happened before. Too many times to enumerate but for me, I especially remembered the gentleman from Baltimore, because of those very same words “I can’t breathe.” We thought then that things would change and maybe they did, in Baltimore. But what about where you live, or where I live?
Just in the last few weeks we have heard about Ahmed Arbery, Brionna Taylor, and now George Floyd. I am old enough to remember the Watts riots in LA and the March on Washington led by Dr. Martin Luther King. The horror of the assassinations of JFK, Dr. King, and RFK. And then the peaceful protests that followed and suddenly, the Kent State riots.
And all this makes me wonder – why does someone have to die in order for us to change? Why did Jesus have to die in order for us to acknowledge our need of God? Well, God tells us. We, in our natural nature, our unable to love one another as He has loved us. We cannot seem to love unconditionally except for those who are just like us. And even then, it is rarely unconditional. Many times it is performance based – if you are good enough, or brave enough, or pretty enough – then I can love you.
When will we learn the lesson of history? The death of Jesus created a movement that is still very much alive and well today. Some of the message has gotten lost in the arguments about doctrine, but the central message is still the same. You are worthy, you are loved, Jesus will allow you to get right with God and with one another. Many people died as martyrs to keep that message alive.
When we invaded North America to begin colonization of what would eventually become the United States of America, we went to war against the native population. Instead of coming in to share a space, we determined we needed to conquer it and make it our own. So we created lands for the native population, reservations they could call their own. And native populations are still being decimated in other countries around the world and we seem unable and powerless to stop the genocide.
When some of our population decided that slavery was wrong, a civil war ensued. The North against the South they called it. I happen to live near the Mason-Dixon line and even though there were no battles fought locally, the citizens here were divided and sympathizers from both sides split their churches based on those beliefs. The locals here continued to live in relative harmony despite their differences.
How many people had to die for us to end slavery? And here we are, 155 years later, with some still holding on to that dismal past. I was born and raised in the South and I love the southern charm, the hospitality, the comfort foods that come from a great southern cook. Don’t you just love to hear a southern accent? Bless your heart. And we all know what that really means! Yet I know the south’s history and refuse to repeat it.
In the 1960’s we experienced desegregation, school bussings, job quotas, college quotas, and eventually Equal Employment Opportunities. These programs were a patch, and they did make some difference but ultimately we have to call them a failure because look where we find ourselves right now.
And that’s the rub. It seems as though we have slipped backwards. We have turned a blind eye in the very recent past, that laissez-faire attitude where we don’t interfere in anyone else’s business. But this business impacts all of us. It is about human kindness – our relationship with others. What type of culture do we want for our future? And it affects each and every one.
The Vietnam War ended in great part due to peaceful protests. And when it ended, we vilified our returning soldiers. They were called names, spat upon, ostracized from society. Almost as though they were untouchables. So they know discrimination. And then PTSD starts making the news. Tragic stories of their lives post-war. Yes, I remember some of those horrific crimes against villages during that war, a conflict that was unwinnable. It’s no wonder that returning soldiers rarely discuss their time spent in country. The same is true of WWII veterans. You never hear them talking about the events of the war, only the comraderie. But they came home as heroes, our Vietnam Vets did not. In more recent times, we have been honoring all our veterans and making a point to thank them, in large part to make up for the shame we thrust upon them at the end of the Vietnam War.
As we move forward once again, I pray that this time we have real lasting change. But let’s not vilify those who have been given the task and privilege of protecting all citizens. We cannot lump them all in the same pot. Just because some cops operate from a place of prejudice does not mean that all of them do. We need a culture that exposes the worst in us so we can expel the evil from among us. Because it is evil disguised.
I have great hope with some of the kindness we have witnessed via our TV screens in this past week. Police officers kneeling with the protesters, neighborhood residents standing down the crowd so no looting or destruction occurred, voices being heard – not patronized – heard. Words of healing from any who hold public office. Vows to change our system. And I hope the highest offices in our land are paying attention. And as much as policy needs to change, the greater change needs to come from the heart.
As a white person, I was brought up to see authority figures, such as police officers, as a source of help. Yes, we were taught to respect them and to see them as the people to run to when we were afraid or when in danger. I have watched mothers on TV, mothers of children of color, say that they have raised their child to make sure they are obedient, to do exactly what the officer says if they get stopped or questioned. And it shows that those officers were to be respected, but also to be feared. In my world, you only had to fear the police if you were doing something seriously wrong. For others it seems that police officers are to be always feared because they have your life in their hands.
If we, as a nation, start treating one another with respect and love, courageously speaking out against bias and prejudice in all its forms, we will change our culture. We can do it peacefully and lovingly. We can create a haven that is welcoming to all. And we start in the home, at a grass roots level. If we hear racist comments, prejudicial statements – speak out. Speak out in love, not in arrogance. Because I know, for each one of us, no matter how unbiased you believe you are, if you will really search your heart, you will find the darkness. And the only thing that conquers darkness is light.
I don’t know where that darkness comes from. Old attitudes we have heard at some point in time. Something we have witnessed. Thoughts that we have kept and not discarded. Something we read in a book long forgotten. Do you know? Have you seen, in your mind’s eye, the darkness that resides within you? We fight it, we overcome it, we do not allow it to escape from the prison of our mind. And we are able to move through this life in peace and grace if we live in the light.
We need to keep on learning. I have a lot to learn about racism, and by that I mean my own attitudes that can feed racism unintentionally. Let me use Confederate monuments as an example. To me, they were only monuments to people who were considered leaders during their time. But then this week, I learned the story behind the General Lee monument in Richmond, VA. 150,000 people attended the unveiling of that monument, 25 years after the end of the Civil War. And all of them were carrying Confederate flags and wanting the south to rise again. A return to the policies that had led to the Civil War. So when people of color experience those monuments, they see those who wanted to enslave them being glorified. To my white mind, it would be as if someone wanted to erect an enormous monument to Hitler. The thought makes me shudder! And I had never framed it like that until this week when the Governor of Virginia decided to remove that monument from a major intersection in Richmond. We cannot erase history, but we also don’t need to glorify the wrong side of history.
We are in for a lengthy national dialogue. And at times it will be awkward, and it will be painful. It will take patience and love to work through our misunderstandings and the hot button words that each side might have that the other side knows nothing about, or has not understood. Change is gonna come, and it has to come within the hearts and minds of each of us. George Floyd can breathe now. We need to breathe, and breathe deeply, and dive into these difficult conversations that will lead to necessary policy change and culture change so that no one has to fear for their life, liberty or pursuit of happiness due to the color of their skin.
“The greatest discovery of my generation is that a human being can alter his life by altering his attitude.” William James
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