Read this book, and imagine what it would feel like to be a black man in American. I'm inclined to say something as strong as "Every American should read this book," or at least a summary of its contents.
Reading
this book is a commitment. I had to get past the first chapter where I
felt wary of the author's premise and ways she said things that sounded
like sweeping statements that she hadn't yet supported. I also had to get through the history chapter at the beginning, which was relevant and necessary but I just found it a bit harder to get through. After that, I found the writing engaging and nothing slowed me down in continuing to read. From then on, reading chapter after chapter
referring to studies related to the criminal justice and prison system, policing, the work force, and government assistance in America, many emotions were invoked in me. Mostly anger,
sadness, and helplessness.
All I know is that I am not ok with the reality described in this
book. It was about half way through the book that I stopped for a few
moments to imagine a black man who instinctively knows and
routinely lives out the data laid out in this book. I could imagine the
fear, humiliation, resignation, and ambivalence deeply ingrained him. And
considering all that, anger too. I thought of some of my community college students who
are kind young men in their early twenties, and that's
when the emotions really hit me. I can't believe they have to live with the reality described in this book every
day of their lives. I have also been pondering how the gospel of Jesus can heal and free those who suffer deep injustice. I don't have further thoughts on that yet. It's not a formula. In the words of Sister Rosemary of Uganda, forgiveness is a path that must be walked. (I've also been listening to recent Bridgetown Church podcast interviews about non-violence.)
I'm shocked by the
prevalent dismissal of racial injustice that is perpetuated by systems
set up by the government that affect prosecution, courts, and law enforcement. I
don't tend to think about bigger picture things like this very often,
because it overwhelms me. My tendency is to focus on what is directly
in front of me in my everyday life: my students, teaching, tutoring,
friends, acquaintances, coworkers, and trying to build a relationship
with God.
I'm convinced that Americans would
benefit from being given permission to mourn injustices that have been
done in this country over centuries. A friend and I were talking
recently about Holocaust memorials in Europe. Memorials are placed in
public outdoor places, not just in museums as something to learn about
from history. Public memorials are a reminder of an event acknowledged
as worthwhile and necessary to grieve that it took place and strive that
nothing at all similar to it should happen again. Could America take
steps to grieve and mourn terrible things that happened in the past that
still affect its people today? On a much much smaller scale, I've learned in my personal life that
trying to go on as if everything is ok when there is actually something I
have not grieved or acknowledged is detrimental to me and it will continually come back
unless I acknowledge the grief and/or traumatic experience and process
it. Sometimes it still comes back later, even when I thought I'd
processed it. Just because something is "over" doesn't mean it doesn't
ever affect me (or others involved) again. Holocaust memorials can be found all over
Europe. Why shouldn't memorials to horrors in America's past be found
all over the United States? America, you have unresolved grief and
trauma. Don't pretend nothing is wrong and everything is ok now.
Personally this makes me feel like I should DO something, but also feel like there isn't much I can do that would seem like much. I do think I have no
excuse not to learn and try to understand. There are so many resources
available now for learning about this topic, many for free, if I care
enough to try. I'd be interested in knowing about others. (For anyone interested, I again recommend this podcast episode, which can also be found on itunes.) I've found that general emotion-related appeals related to this topic seem to have reached their limit in helping my understanding. I needed a wider historical understanding--the podcast episode helped with that. I needed to see actual data and specific stories--that's what the book did. And I need to
know actual people. I need to have conversations with real individuals,
as it's appropriate--friends, coworkers, students, people I go to
church with. So anyone who knows me who reads
this and wants to converse, either in writing or in person, we should do
that. This is a difficult topic to discuss, but, what do you think? What has been helpful to you?
One of my main questions is how I can begin to have a more diverse friend group (or friends in St. Louis at all, but that's another story!). I also struggle to know what is appropriate when it comes to relationships with students. This isn't China where the international school was like a family and students and staff would often do things together outside of school. This isn't Westmont where professors often invited students over. I don't know if that's "allowed" or appropriate in my teaching context, or if it would even be a good idea at all, but I lack other alternative ideas.
One of my main questions is how I can begin to have a more diverse friend group (or friends in St. Louis at all, but that's another story!). I also struggle to know what is appropriate when it comes to relationships with students. This isn't China where the international school was like a family and students and staff would often do things together outside of school. This isn't Westmont where professors often invited students over. I don't know if that's "allowed" or appropriate in my teaching context, or if it would even be a good idea at all, but I lack other alternative ideas.

No comments:
Post a Comment