I know everyone has shared their take, and mine won’t be groundbreaking or long, but this continues to weigh heavily on my mind and heart.
I have a gorgeously diverse family. Some of the people I care about most are people of color. This does not make me any kind of expert, except perhaps in that I have the advantage of deep-soul knowledge that humanity belongs equally to every person, regardless of race, sex, intellect, money, ability, disability, or any other human condition I’ve left out.
These last few weeks have been a catalyst for deeper introspection for so many people, and I am no exception. Interestingly, I think maybe my parents did such a beautiful job raising us to love one another that it blinded me a little to the pain and injustice that is still so very present. I’m learning things about myself and the world that I haven’t faced before. I hate it, but I’m grateful for this opportunity to grow and do my part to work toward reconciliation. I second-guess every thought as I attempt to educate myself: Am I somehow making this about myself? (Usually.) Am I arguing with someone’s personal story in my head, even if I’m not stupid enough to say it out loud? (Sometimes.) The painful truth is that my brain wants to argue with the evidence because it doesn’t want the burden. I’m not saying we shouldn’t vet sources and opinions, but we must be brave enough to face fully and honestly the state of affairs in our hearts and in our country.
My prayer is that our good and righteous anger might be stoked long enough to make real change, that our hearts would remain both steadfast and open to love.
Note: I’ve really appreciated bethebridge.com. I haven’t read Latasha Morrison’s book yet, but the site is fantastic and makes me feel welcomed to this fight.