If I didn't have a Black son, I don't know how engaged I would be in America's current race debate. This is my confession. This is the privilege of a white person of means.
It is because I have a vested interest in how this country treats MY child that I am engaged.
I have been raised on "stand up for the oppressed" and "lay down your life for your brother" in very real ways. As a child I watched my parents live this again and again.
I'd like to think I would stand up anyway, even if I didn't have my son. I would like to think it is in my genes.
The truth is though, these days, it seems like the world is all tragedy all the time. I receive these emails about Christians in persecuted countries who are going to be executed, and could I please sign a petition... I feel sick as I click them closed. There are so many slain in so many uprisings. So many children dying of so many preventable diseases. So many raped and maimed and displaced, and I cannot see them all or fight for them, and so I turn away.
I am supposed to be like the Good Samaritan who sees and does something and sometimes I do, but sometimes I look away because I can.
My (Black) son is nine. I have never seen him followed in a store, because I keep him near me the whole time and I talk to him more loudly than required so that people know he's with me.
My son is nine. He has never interacted with a police officer. He has no idea that there might be cases where he is viewed as suspicious.
He runs from yard to yard with his friends from the neighborhood (also Black). They have swords and nerf guns, and marshmallow bows, and whiffle balls tied to strings. They are nine and they play war all the time because that is the business of boys.
I introduce us to every neighbor I see. I wave at the Constable as he (and she, on the opposite shift) drive past. I sit outside while my children play. I am here, and these are mine, I am saying to the neighborhood.
I am thankful for an integrated school. I am thankful for a diverse group of friends. I am thankful for friends who "get it" and are raising their voices about what is happening in our nation.
I came here to provide a list of links to things I have found helpful in these last few weeks of non-indictments. I have mostly been sharing wise things other people are saying, feeling like I don't have anything to say myself.
I guess what I do have to say is if you're bothered by what is happening in our country, you don't need to be Black, or have a Black child or relative, to have a reason to speak up. You don't have to know everything, or be well spoken. Just say SOMETHING. Please, just join the conversation and say something. Just say, "I don't think police should shoot twelve year old boys playing with toy guns."
I know we are overwhelmed with the world's tragedies. I know we don't know where to start, or how to fix this. Saying "something is going wrong here" is a start.
Here are the best things I've come across these weeks. Please read and watch them.
Tim Wise wrote a brilliant piece about white America's blindness to matters of race. It is so very, very informative. If you need a starting point, start here.
Heather Johnson McCormick, white adoptive mother to twin boys from Haiti wrote Cute Little Black Boys Grow Up to be Black Men... which is just so painful and throbbing. Please don't look away. Read it.
Video Blogger Franchesca Ramsey explains how to be a a good ally.
There's been so much fighting on the internet. Feuds on Facebook. Thanksgiving was a flame-war for some families. We often want to block and unfriend people who are vocalizing things we disagree with. Spectra says Dear White Allies: Stop Unfriending other White People Over Ferguson.
Lastly, we probably all saw that adorable picture of the cute Black boy hugging the cop in Ferguson. I think many of us white people loved that picture. It offered a moment of relief and healing. Here are some other perspectives to consider Complicating the Narrative
Do you want to talk about this? Do you want to ask questions? I'm here.
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