Years ago I wrote an article in my parish newsletter. I don’t remember what the topic was but I do remember that it caused a small stir. I used in my article the phrase “Boy, you wouldn’t believe…”. As in you wouldn’t believe how many people showed up or you wouldn’t believe how cold it was. And one of my parish members took offense.
She wrote me an impassioned email about how the use of the word Boy was derogatory toward Black men, that it was a word with a history and I should have known better than to use it that way. She was quite shaming. And when I first read her response I was shocked, a little hurt. As they say, I didn’t mean anything by it. But it dawned on me as time went on that now I knew. I knew that used in a certain context Boy was a hurtful word. And once you know, you can’t ever un-know. Once you have received the wisdom of others, you have to decide how you are going to be changed, and hopefully improved by it.
I think of that incident, and I am grateful. I am grateful someone had the courage to say something to me, and that I was smart enough to know it was true. To hear someone’s story, someone’s heart, is a powerful thing. We don’t do that enough. We don’t ask people to tell us about their lives, how they came to be who they are, what choices and chances led them to this moment. We are, for the most part, not used to listening. And we suffer for it as a country and as a culture.
I think about the young men who mocked the Native American drummer at the Lincoln Memorial. Unfortunately for them the whole world knows about their poor choice, their rudeness. But now that they know, what will they choose? Will they listen? Will they take the hard lessons they have been taught and allow themselves to be transformed? Who will help them with that?
I think about the men who put the noose around Jussie Smollett’s neck in Chicago. They knew full well what they were doing. And if you are horrified by that, by the hate that requires, what are you going to do about it? Because sometimes we learn from the wisdom of others, and sometimes we learn from their mistakes. Now that you know, now that you have seen the deep hatred, can you turn away? Can you just give into the busyness of your life and wait for the next bad thing? I find waiting for something bad to happen much more exhausting than action.
If we don’t take a stand, if we don’t say unacceptable, if we don’t demand change and lead change, we are a part of the problem. We can’t ignore it anymore. It is a race to the bottom and we are all in a lane. I know it is hard to figure out what to do, but I have an invitation, an opportunity to take a stand against racism and hate.
Greater Youngstown Community Dialogue on Racism is about to kick off their 4th set of interracial discussions. You meet with a diverse group for 6 weeks, each meeting lasting 2 hours. You follow a format created by the group Everyday Democracy, which involves telling your story and listening to the story of others. And if you are thinking that you might be a little tired of just talking, at the end every group creates a short term action plan for something good in the community. People who have participated say it is life changing. It is really an amazing process that creates incredible opportunities for relationship.
You are invited to come to St John’s Episcopal Church on February 21 at 6:00 for pizza, information and possibly to join a group. We all have to commit to do something. This is one possible thing. I hope to see you there.