When I was in the sixth grade I came home and asked my mom if racism still existed. Now, you may question whether I had been living under a rock or not…and you’d be right in a sense.
I grew up in a Military family and lived outside of the U.S. until age 6. By age 11, in 1997, I had only lived in the U.S. for 2 1/2 years of my life. Now, I was well aware of other issues at play in our world. My eyes were opened to extreme poverty living in Panama and I stepped through Desert Storm as a young child in Italy. But, in the fifth grade I gave a speech for Black History Month where I celebrated the accomplishments of Oprah Winfrey and Marian Anderson (the first black opera singer to sing at The Met)….my brain truly believed racism was a thing I studied in history books and celebrated the divide we had bridged in school assemblies.
In sixth grade I found myself living in Alabama. My father had recently retired from the military and I was the “new girl” in school. I was describing “my old friends” with a friend one day (as the new girl typically does) and mentioned that my friend Tasha would probably come to visit. My friend said, “Is Tasha black? That sounds like a 'black' name.” The answer was, ‘yes’, but that fact seemed irrelevant and perplexing that it had even been asked. I answered his question and he said, “Well, I can’t hang out with her then.” My brain quickly did the math to realize I had encountered real life racism for the first time.
When I came home to my mother, I had been processing all day. I didn’t understand. My heart was hurt. Full of questions.
I’m not sure my mother realized just how sheltered I had been...growing up in rural South Carolina in the 50's and 60's she knew first hand what segregation looked like...but the language of division or 'us and them' had never been used in our home. She quickly acknowledged and affirmed the reality I lived until this point was a blessing and that racism was a present reality. We sat down and decompressed the conversation that had happened earlier. And we discussed how I might respond when I encountered something like that in the future.
We soon moved from Alabama to New Orleans….and although much more of a melting pot and although I went to an amazing school with an incredible number of people who exposed me to different cultures, races and religions…I was surrounded by affluence. I was surrounded by opportunity. And thankfully, I was surrounded by acceptance. The social and racial divide in Greater New Orleans, however, is daunting and, to be blunt, in your face. If I thought I encountered racism in small town Alabama….I uncovered a very real, present-day problem for our culture. (This is in no way a knock against either state….for I have dear friends from Alabama still and New Orleans is the hometown I dearly love.)
Now, even with these experiences I’ve always thought that racism and segregation were still not as bad as they used to be. Can I say how ridiculous it is that essentially that previous statement means, “Well….atleast we’re not AS racist as we USED to be?” Disgusting. Unacceptable. And furthermore, I’ve found my ignorance in the recent continued shootings spraying across our country, for I thought there were far more people of acceptance in this country than there truly are………..racism between black and white, gay or straight, Muslim or Christian, housed and unhoused, mentally ill and not. This list goes on. And my heart aches. Merely putting a hashtag and the city or the group of people I’m praying for does not cut it anymore. I’ll still be praying….but I lift my voice to say I want to create change. I lift my voice to say we can’t stand for racism ANYMORE. I lift my voice to say this country should be about love and we should DEMAND that. Because I believe our children will grow up in a world where racism is a thing of the past….in history books….where we say, “we were WRONG THEN and we embrace HUMANITY NOW.” I believe we are in the midst of a great shift in our country....and I lift my voice to say I am a person of love and acceptance, with the deeply rooted belief that God's love will conquer the hatred and separation in our midst.
Love has to speak out to be heard over the triggers and venomous words inundating our country. I lift my voice. And my fervent prayer is that you will too.
Amen!
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