Those of you who read my last post, know that it was a deeply painful one for me. However, I have been doing a great deal of processing, and here is what I came up with.
I had a long talk with a dear Professor friend of mine, this past week. He is a professor of Criminal Justice, and deeply desires policing to be done with justice (the biblical kind) in our neighborhoods. He challenged me to remember that our call to reconciliation isn't just to white and black, but also to situations of community and police. This is not a message I wanted to talk about.
How difficult it is to share the love of Jesus to those who abuse power in our neighborhoods. I want to grow bitter to hate, but assuming that all police are corrupt and racist, is the same as hating my brother because of his skin color. Some police are good, some are bad, some only are functioning out of a world-view in which they only see the painful side of our neighborhood. It's easy to be angry at the injustice the police create in our neighborhood, but it is also easy to begin to hate, to judge categorically. Isn't that what we are fighting against. Doesn't Jesus calls to love our enemies?
Is anyone having success in this area? Anyone know where to begin?
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
I am angry...and its not the coffee.
Today is one of the most beautiful days of the year. The sun is shining the leaves are blowing, my neighbors and I waited in line to vote. What a privilege it is, especially in this community where for the longest time African-Americans could not vote, or were considered only 3/5ths of a person. Even in our recent history African-Americans were threatened, harassed and killed for voting. So today is a beautiful day. a day that brings dignity to young and old in my neighborhood. In a community that sometimes feels like it has no voice, today, people in my neighborhood waited for hours to have their voice counted, what a beautiful day.
On this day however, I am reminded that this struggle, the struggle for dignity is not over. Not one bit.
Starbucks gives out free coffee for those who vote. We have a Starbucks in our neighborhood. Imagine that a Starbucks in an African-American community. Starbucks started the store to provide jobs and potentially attract other businesses into our jobless neighborhood. We love our Starbucks, young African American professional stop by on their lunch hour; African American college students do homework after class. The elderly from our neighborhood sit, talk, drink coffee, and play chess. If you live in a poor community you will understand how amazing it is to have a quite place, a restful place to sit and feel like you are treated like a normal human being. There is no bulletproof glass at Starbucks, no walls of glass that separate the store workers from the customers. The employees are young African American men and women, many working their furst job where they are treated with value.
Ashley and I went to Starbucks after voting to get our free cups of coffee. The place was buzzing with excited conversation. Everyone was excited about the election. To elderly folks (who probably remember the voting act of 1965) happily engaged us in conversation. They weren't concerned who we voted for (I'm not telling by the way) but they were excited to turn in their voting slip, and get a cup of coffee. Proof that in this country there are moments of equality.
Then I heard the statement, the statement that sucked the life from the room. "I hope you are all here tomorrow!" I turned, as I turned I heard the next statement, "This all might be burned to the ground!" Two white police officers had entered the door. They spoke loud enough for everyone to here, and only spoke to the one white Starbucks worker. “You shouldn't be here tonight, they joked." Everyone held their breath. Something evil had just entered the room. Power, power that was distinctly racist. What gives someone the right to enter into an all black environment and say things that degrades the community to rioting animals. This is my neighborhood too, and the people I know here are sweet gentle, hopeful people. Has there been riots in the past? Yes. Were they a good thing? Absolutely not. Can I understand why they happened? Now that I am learning history that wasn't taught to me, I can. Could there be potential riots tonight or tomorrow. Not likely, unless there is reason to believe that the election was stolen. Which if you know our history is not impossible to imagine.
I know the bulk of my readers will disagree with this post. If you do, just realize that it is easy to justify such statements from the outside. But I know when I have heard racism, and I know that I heard disdain, and something that bordered on hate from Chicago's "Finest". I know when I have seen power abused. "The police are our friends" is what I heard growing up. Tell that to the young man standing next to the white woman behind the Starbucks counter. Tell that to the African American pastor who is afraid for his life when he is pulled over for no reason. The police are my friends. They talk to me in Starbucks. They give us personal cell phone numbers, "just in case". They talk to me on my porch about how they want to flip a neighborhood. They see that I am white, and their true thoughts come out. "We are together, I’ll watch your back, why do you live here?" I know for a fact that these conversations do not happen with my African-American brothers and sisters.
So what could Ashley and I do. What could anyone do in our situation? Say something, and risk being pulled out of the store and patted down. I know how our police function in our neighborhood. It's through fear and intimidation. They would not have allowed someone to question their opinions. So we walked out. But as we did, something sunk in me, "I should have said something, anything,” but fear is powerful.
I am trying to recapture the hope that I had this morning, but there is something bitter in my stomach. And it’s not the Starbucks coffee.
On this day however, I am reminded that this struggle, the struggle for dignity is not over. Not one bit.
Starbucks gives out free coffee for those who vote. We have a Starbucks in our neighborhood. Imagine that a Starbucks in an African-American community. Starbucks started the store to provide jobs and potentially attract other businesses into our jobless neighborhood. We love our Starbucks, young African American professional stop by on their lunch hour; African American college students do homework after class. The elderly from our neighborhood sit, talk, drink coffee, and play chess. If you live in a poor community you will understand how amazing it is to have a quite place, a restful place to sit and feel like you are treated like a normal human being. There is no bulletproof glass at Starbucks, no walls of glass that separate the store workers from the customers. The employees are young African American men and women, many working their furst job where they are treated with value.
Ashley and I went to Starbucks after voting to get our free cups of coffee. The place was buzzing with excited conversation. Everyone was excited about the election. To elderly folks (who probably remember the voting act of 1965) happily engaged us in conversation. They weren't concerned who we voted for (I'm not telling by the way) but they were excited to turn in their voting slip, and get a cup of coffee. Proof that in this country there are moments of equality.
Then I heard the statement, the statement that sucked the life from the room. "I hope you are all here tomorrow!" I turned, as I turned I heard the next statement, "This all might be burned to the ground!" Two white police officers had entered the door. They spoke loud enough for everyone to here, and only spoke to the one white Starbucks worker. “You shouldn't be here tonight, they joked." Everyone held their breath. Something evil had just entered the room. Power, power that was distinctly racist. What gives someone the right to enter into an all black environment and say things that degrades the community to rioting animals. This is my neighborhood too, and the people I know here are sweet gentle, hopeful people. Has there been riots in the past? Yes. Were they a good thing? Absolutely not. Can I understand why they happened? Now that I am learning history that wasn't taught to me, I can. Could there be potential riots tonight or tomorrow. Not likely, unless there is reason to believe that the election was stolen. Which if you know our history is not impossible to imagine.
I know the bulk of my readers will disagree with this post. If you do, just realize that it is easy to justify such statements from the outside. But I know when I have heard racism, and I know that I heard disdain, and something that bordered on hate from Chicago's "Finest". I know when I have seen power abused. "The police are our friends" is what I heard growing up. Tell that to the young man standing next to the white woman behind the Starbucks counter. Tell that to the African American pastor who is afraid for his life when he is pulled over for no reason. The police are my friends. They talk to me in Starbucks. They give us personal cell phone numbers, "just in case". They talk to me on my porch about how they want to flip a neighborhood. They see that I am white, and their true thoughts come out. "We are together, I’ll watch your back, why do you live here?" I know for a fact that these conversations do not happen with my African-American brothers and sisters.
So what could Ashley and I do. What could anyone do in our situation? Say something, and risk being pulled out of the store and patted down. I know how our police function in our neighborhood. It's through fear and intimidation. They would not have allowed someone to question their opinions. So we walked out. But as we did, something sunk in me, "I should have said something, anything,” but fear is powerful.
I am trying to recapture the hope that I had this morning, but there is something bitter in my stomach. And it’s not the Starbucks coffee.
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