Yesterday while I was in the common area waiting for church to begin, I sat at a table and saw a blind woman approaching with her dark glasses and cane. I wondered to what degree she even knew of my presence as she came to the table where I sat. Could she see a shadow—can she hear my breathing—sense my presence? After she sat down, I said to her, "You know, when people who can see see a blind person with a cane, we wonder what they can see." We talked about how she lost her sight, what that was like for her, and more.
Sight is relative. So is understanding.
I had a wonderfully dear friend Steve who was my neighbor for over a decade. Steve was a black man. I recall a conversation with him where he shared, "Sometimes when I see a white person; I wonder what they think of me." I replied, "Sometimes when I see a black person, I wonder what they think I am thinking about them."
We don't know what we don't know.
Today we honor Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It is one of those days where, for a white guy, I wonder what to say. I wonder how to honor Dr. King and the civil rights movement. I wonder what other black people will think of my post, my declaration. I wonder what other white people will think as well.
So the following are a few thoughts from me, a white guy. While I may seemingly paint with a broad brush through some of this, the perspective comes from investment in relationships, self-work, observations, conversations, and learnings from both black and white people. It comes from me.
Firstly, taking a day to honor Dr. King and making it about myself and my point of view may be a typical response from a white guy and tragically ironic, but I will write on—asking for forgiveness in advance. You see, we (and when I say "we" throughout this, "white people" is what I mean) come from a place of cultural conditioning that influences our beliefs and our behavior. Often unwittingly.
That said, America's white majority culture lives in and from a place that was developed and geared for us by us. When you exist in this majority culture, anything that influences from outside that cultural construct can come across as a challenge because it's different. Or worse, wrong. Or worse yet, bad. The ability to entertain challenge is complex.
Dig into the challenge and explore the complexity.
On a day that brings attention to past and current civil rights issues, we often wrestle with our public response to it.
Do we:
Declare 'color of the skin/content of character'? This is a safe place. It aligns me with Dr. King but also with relatively benign behavior.
Declare 'the inadequacies of the southern church and its response to late 60's racism'? Thinking this portrays me in a position of allyship.
Option one, while benign, is expected and perhaps more authentic.
Option two, while seemingly and equally noble and 'aligned with the cause,' can be problematic. I have learned that I cannot pronounce myself as an "ally" to the black community. It is the black community that attributes that to me.
Allyship is earned, not owned.
Words like "CRT" and "Woke" are the boogyman to many of us. Part of this perception is that these words' genesis is unknown to us and, as a result, are defined for us by us. The ideas of CRT and its exploring of systems whose beginnings come with racist intentions have turned into a thwarting of our educational system. And Woke, whose beginnings were defined and owned by the black community as a vehicle that connects a formerly enslaved race and currently oppressed community to the dignities of African heritage, king and queenship, and more. But we have turned it into a thwarting of white people, an insult, or a political push.
Words can be colonized to suit our agenda.
As we entered the beginning of the 2020s, we saw a rise in awareness of the need to further racial equality. We saw marches. We saw black lives mattering. We saw riotous behavior. We saw round-table conversations. We saw new public demands and corporate responses. We all wrestled with it in one form or another. Racism is real—it was pressed into our faces.
Some proclaimed the virtue of color blindness. Others pursued new education and understanding. Some argued politics. Others worked toward relationships. Some proclaimed that things are better now. Others believe there's still a long way to go. Some pointed to the founding fathers and intentions of our country. Others pointed out poor execution from those fathers on those intentions.
We all saw it and wrestled with it according to who we are. And this continues to this day—the day to honor and examine ourselves and the rights of others.
Professor and Author Esau McCaulleys tweeted, "We can't have a Bible that says cleanse me from my secret faults (Psalm 19:12) and be offended by the mere idea that we might have undiscerned racial biases."
Racism is deep. I have stories to tell that reveal it's depth in me.
Do some digging inside yourself today specifically, and moving forward especially.