“When you see something that is not right, not just, not fair, you have a moral obligation to say something, to do something.
“Our children and their children will ask us, ‘What did you do? What did you say?’”
— Rep. John Lewis
Last week was a heavy week. A heavy week in an already heavy time.
Last week, we laid my father-in-law to rest. He died the beginning of February, and we held a wake and memorial service for him just before everything started shutting down because of COVID-19.
My father-in-law, the Reverend Ralph Lord Roy, was a Freedom Rider, like Rep. John Lewis. He had stories of meeting with Martin Luther King, Jr. in jail; of participating in the Clergy Freedom Ride from Washington to Tallahassee, FL, in 1961; of organizing and participating a prayer pilgrimage to Albany, GA, in 1962 that resulted in the largest group of clergy members jailed at one time in United States history. (A side note: Ralph’s friend and co-conspirator, Rabbi Israel Dresner, also 91, journeyed with his daughter to attend Ralph’s memorial service.)
My father-in-law was proud of his arrests. Even in 2002, at the age of 74, he was arrested again at the United Nations with a group protesting the approaching invasion of Iraq.
We buried Ralph last Thursday. Just four family members to see him off and say goodbye. Then, we awoke Saturday to the news that Rep. John Lewis had died. It hit us especially hard, given the raw edge of our emotions.
Those words shared above, spoken by Lewis. I won’t call them a battle cry, given his and Rev. Roy’s commitment to non-violence. But certainly a rallying cry; a call to action.
Since the murder of George Floyd, I’ve been listening to the wisdom and experiences of people of culture. Listening, and realizing that I haven’t listened before; haven’t believed; didn’t want to upset the racialized, advantaged world I get to have, simply because of the color of my skin.
I’ve been listening to Resmaa Menakem, and I’m working my way through the teachings and practices he offers in his amazing book, My Grandmother’s Hands. I’ve been listening to Dr. Ibram Kendi, who explains the difference between racism and anti-racism, as clear and basic as the difference between justice and injustice, and who illuminates the path to being an anti-racist.
And I’ve heard the words of James Baldwin, from decades ago, through the documentary “I Am Not Your Negro.” As Baldwin talks about Medgar Evers, Malcolm X, and Martin Luther King, Jr., about their murders, and about the systemic injustice of racism of the ’50’s and ’60’s, and on into the ’70’s and ’80’s, it becomes painfully clear that, while some of the language may have changed, the racialized systems, the injustice, and the brutalizing and criminalizing of non-white bodies has continued, still continues.
These courageous ancestors have done their best to shoulder this heaviest of burdens: to stop this transmission of trauma and wounding that has been passed down, generation to generation, from being passed to the next. They have been arrested, beaten, brutalized, and killed trying to break this evil pattern.
Menakem and Kendi are the next generation of truth-talkers. Standing up. And, so many standing with them. Pointing not just to murders of Black bodies. COVID numbers. Policing. Incarceration. Education. Healthcare. Housing. Jobs. Careers. Income. Life expectancy. In every aspect of life in America, there is disparity between races.
When I am honest enough to look, I can see it everywhere. It is not a manipulation of numbers and data. It is not “fake news.” The harsh reality, too, is that there’s a part of me, when I’m really honest, that knew it all along. As tough as anything has been in my life, it hasn’t been as bad as it would have been if I had a Black body.
So…what’s my point?
I’ve talked before about legacy. And, in so much of my life’s journey to this point, I’ve discovered that once I see a truth, especially a hard truth, I cannot unsee it.
I am committed to continue to listen and see. I am committed to check myself, and to call out and challenge racist ideas, behaviors, policies, and systems. I am committed to receive criticism and continue to learn, so that I can continue to do better and be better.
I look at this country and my heart breaks for her. And my heart breaks for the brave ancestors I’ve lost and we’ve lost.
I hear Mr. Menakem’s wisdom, that healing the trauma that we are all holding begins by noticing it within me, and working with it, feeling uncomfortable, and metabolizing it in order to heal. And then, holding it with other white bodies, and experiencing it together–expressing it and witnessing it, and holding each other. That’s how we’ll build some stamina and capacity, some culture. Once we do that, then we may be able to speak the same energetic, emotional, and verbal language as non-white bodies, in order to heal as a country.
But, to be clear, we have to do our work. Race is our problem. We need to heal and grow. Because, right now, this shit is killing us all.
Legacy: To our ancestors–Thank You! And to this generation of brave truth-talkers–Thank you for standing up now!
Thank you for sharing this. Condolences on your father-in-law and thank you for your candor. It helps to see what you’re thinking about this. ❤️