There’s something that’s been eating at me the past few days…
Racism is alive and well – and it resides within my circle of influence.
It’s not that I didn’t realize racism was still a problem; the headlines have made that abundantly clear. I just hadn’t noticed how often it rears its ugly head within my reach. Among good people. Whom I love. And I respect.
They interesting thing is, they probably don’t even realize they’re part of the problem. They cite statistics, logic, and personal anecdotes that back their perfectly understandable conclusions… that people of other races are entitled. Obnoxious. Unqualified. Hateful. Lazy. Broken.
And they don’t realize the ultimate irony: how often and justifiably the same statements are uttered about them.
We have a problem, America… and we don’t have to drive a thousand miles to find it. It’s right around the corner, across the lunch room table, and down the pew.
And while all that is deeply troubling, that’s not what’s really eating at me. I hate the realization that I’m part of the problem, too.
Every time I nervously chuckle at an inappropriate joke, I’m part of the problem.
Every time I hear an out-of-line statement, but bite my tongue, I’m part of the problem.
Every time I see someone overlooked or ignored, but don’t stand up for them, I’m part of the problem.
Every time I see someone abused or mistreated and assume there’s got to be “more to the story,” I’m part of the problem.
Every time I dismiss someone’s perspective or pain, just because it’s different than mine, I’m part of the problem.
Every time I make an assumption about an entire group of people based on limited experiences or encounters, I’m part of the problem.
I. Am. The problem.
I feel like Bruce Willis at the end of Six Sense. I’m not just walking among the dead; I am undeniably one of them.
So here’s the good news. Or at least better news.
Suddenly, I realize that I don’t have to drive a thousand miles or make a grand public declaration to set the record straight. I just need to walk around the corner. Look across the lunch table. Slide down the pew.
I just need to listen.
To explore.
To grow.
To share.
To love.
And truthfully and relentlessly set the record straight, fighting for those who are hurting or marginalized.
This is my personal mission in the war to restore peace among humanity – to lovingly right the wrong, whenever and wherever I have influence.
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“Speak up for those who can’t speak for themselves.
Speak up for the rights of all those who are poor.
Speak up and judge fairly.
Speak up for the rights of those who are poor and needy.” Proverbs 31:8-9