I’ve been stewing all day about how to put my feelings into
words. I can tell you that it’s not going to be pretty, but tonight I needed to
sit and try to get some of this out of my head. More often than not recently,
it seems like I’m talking to my children about some new ridiculousness that has
happened in our country around race and inequality. Part of me wonders how in
the actual fuck we got to this place, and the other part of me knows that just
because there was a time we elected a black president doesn’t really mean that
we ever really got to a different place. That is ever so clear today as I TWICE
had to talk with the girls about racism, bigotry, and how I expect that they will
call out this kind of inequity and ridiculous behavior as they come across it.
Notice I didn’t say “if” they come across it. That ship has clearly sailed on.
Just last night I heard a story from friends who were at a
charity fundraising event in THIS very city, where the woman speaking and
encouraging people to spend their money actually said that they would take any
kind of payment for items that evening, “but not Puerto Rican money.” Um, so FIRST OF ALL, Puerto Rico is a
part of the United States. Their currency IS our currency. Even my 12 year old knew that.
Secondly? The woman who actually uttered those words was once a pretty big part
of that daughter’s life. Guess what? This is the exact kind of nastiness that
doesn’t fly in my house. We are honest, and we are open, and I will tell these
stories to my girls because it’s hateful and needs to be called out. I had
several friends find her comment so disgusting and offensive that they actually
left the event. The worst part?
This woman calls herself a Christian. She and I have long had political
differences, but I’ve always taken her at her word that our differences are
what make this country great, and we can still discuss them and respect each
other. Not anymore. Making this country great has a new meaning these days, and
good Christian values apparently only apply to white folk. I’m so bothered by
this that I can’t even write anymore about it other than to tell you that I feel
if people are giving their money to a charity, they should know it’s run by
someone who thinks it’s ok to joke about a country full of citizens who don’t have
blonde hair and blue eyes, and who are in dire need of our aid right
now. What would Jesus do? Oh,
that’s right. HE was brown, too…
I’m tired of people saying and doing horrible things without
being held accountable. Kids setting up red solo cups in the shape of a
swastika? Disgusting. A school’s
administration choosing not to make examples out of those same girls involved
in this heinous behavior? Gross. Adults making racist comments in public at a
charity event? Shameful. People making terrible comments on social media from
behind a computer screen? Shameful AND cowardly. I don’t consider myself a
Christian. I was raised in the church and have plenty of reasons that I’m not a
part of it now. But, the great thing is, I don’t have to be part of a church to
be a kind and good human being. If you call yourself a Christian, at best you’d better behave
like someone who has thought about what it means to love your neighbor.
In my home, I’m teaching my children to
call out racism and hatred. I’m teaching them that it’s NEVER ok to spread hate
in any way, and that they should be the ones to stand up when they see
discrimination happening toward or by their friends. We talk about privilege in
this house, not because I think my children will fully understand what their
privilege means until they get older and see more of the world, but because it’s the
absolute right thing to do. Because I hope that one day these conversations we are having now will mean that
they are the ones who stand up when others around them make jokes about the
Holocaust. Or, they’ll be the ones to stop and say how fucked up it is when
a grown adult makes racist remarks about people of color.
I am exhausted. Honestly some days I feel like a broken
record and it makes me beyond sad to continue having these conversations, but still we have them. Last
summer I took the girls to the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis. We
walked through that powerful place and talked at length about what they were
seeing. My girls sat at the Woolworth lunch counter. They stood next to the
burned out bus that the Freedom Fighters rode in. They stood in the very place
where Martin Luther King, Jr. lost his life. They asked why I was crying when
we got to that place in the museum, and I couldn’t even speak to them other
than to say that there is a reason we stand up to hatred. There is a reason we
continue to be kind people even when others aren’t. We might not understand the
power of it, or the importance of it at the time, but people died standing up
for these things. Isn’t that enough?
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