I want it to be out there, but I don’t know if it is.
I am scrolling and reading, scrolling and reading. Article after article after tweet after blog post about the racial injustice running rampant in our country.
#TamirRice #SandraBland #EricGarner #etcetcetcetc
And I’m scouring all the words for the perfect link to share.
The one that speaks so poignantly, so persuasively, so UNARGUABLY about how wrong things are in our country when it comes to how black people are treated. By police, yes, and by so many other people and so many other ways.
I’m looking for words that will pierce hearts, open eyes, bring people to tears over the anguish and heartache and exhaustion and hopelessness my black friends feel (and rightly so).
I want to share that one perfect post that convinces all of us white people (especially ones who want to follow Jesus) that we MUST stop explaining away racial injustice.
That we MUST stop ignoring it, perpetuating it.
That we MUST stop going about our merry way while this is happening to our brothers and sisters.
But that we MUST also not pretend we are “helping” or “saving” or any other patronizing verb. We must STAND WITH them. Make their suffering our own.
Make their dead 12-year-old boys OUR dead 12-year-old boys.
And not be “us” and “them” at all, only US.
Here I sit, frustrated because I can’t find the perfect words to make every white American believe that racial injustice is REAL and it is WRONG and we MUST HELP MAKE THINGS RIGHT.
Discouraged because I cannot make people understand that saying #BlackLivesMatter is not saying that other lives don’t.
Exasperated because I’m pretty sure those magic words don’t exist–ones that turn everyone’s hearts to the truth and stop the ridiculous, sickening, tired arguments fueled by hate and ignorance.
(Oh, the hardships of being white, when “not finding words” is your biggest trouble.)
Instead, I must humble myself and ask God to change hearts–mine included.
I must do what I can with my own limited words and the words of others.
I must let my black friends know I see them, I hear them, I’m for them.
I must defend them against those who are blinded to the truth, blinded by hate.
I must not give up.
Because I can, you know. I can give up any time it gets too hard, too uncomfortable. That’s part of my white privilege.
And I must refuse to use it.
There’s only one right way to use privilege.
And that’s to fight until everyone’s got it.