George Floyd
I finally watched it. I was trying to avoid in it an attempt to preserve my newlywed bubble for just a day or so longer. I knew if I watched it, that would shatter-and so would I.
I keep moving from room to room, hoping the air in each one is thicker that I might be able to breathe a little better. But it’s not, and it’s on the bathroom floor where I find the best place to slump with cool tile underneath. My head sideways now and I can only see the side of the towel basket and not the top. I imagine the tear-filled relief Moses’s mother had as she sent him down the river. I always thought she was probably overwhelmed with sadness, fear, uncertainty. And while that’s probably true, God only knows what I’d pay for a basket big enough and a river swift enough to carry you all away from here.
I begin to think of missionaries going into lands holding persecution at their arrival. I think of soldiers willingly stepping into combat, risking it all for others. And then I think of the choices those people have (read: are in possession of) to make, and that living under the threat of death without a choice is slavery. It’s also proof we do not stand as far from our history as many of us love to claim.
I get it. It’s the things we hate the most about ourselves that we often nervously, loudly, angrily, or too quickly speak the most about. But picture this with me before you click or scroll away. An unexpected visitor drops a mirror at your doorstep on your worst day. On your sickest, ugliest, acne-filled, wounded day. As you scratch open the wrapping around it you motion to toss it aside. You have no need for a mirror today. But then you see a small tag tucked in the corner of it. As you read it your eyes widen, and you begin to feel the pressure build behind them. You have a choice to make. You may toss the mirror away. Yet, the cost is a life. It’s a wicked game, the tag reads. And you wonder to yourself, “Who would do this? Who could think of this?” You are overcome with helplessness. The final line reads: Your refusal to look will cost the life of your son. Or your husband. Or your brother. Or your sister. Please choose now.
Anxiously you rip open the mirror. Haphazardly you pull it close and far, examining every pore on your face. You’re not even sure what you’re looking for, but you will look. I don’t always know what I’m looking for either-but I too look. You contort yourself to see the backs of your legs and shoulders, running the mirror from the top to the bottom as if it is a spray can and you are a brick wall. Your hands are shaking but you don’t stop for hours. The note doesn’t say for how long you have to look. But you can’t risk it.
It’s an easy choice. You look because seeing yourself honestly is worth another life. Every. Single. Time.
So, now what if it’s not your son. Or your husband. What if it’s mine? What if it’s hers? What if it’s someone you will never meet? The answer is that it is still worth it, and if you don’t think so, let me plead with you.
There are boils and pustules of filth on your eyes and your heart that are feeding the monster that is racism in this country. And the reader who most confidently rejects this notion is the illest.
I have moved from the bathroom floor now to the couch. I’m approaching that split road where I can distract myself with other thoughts or allow a new wave of mourning to burst forth.
This is not the first of these tragedies. But I will never stop praying each one is the last.
I don’t fully know what to do. No one who understands does.
How do I cry in the arms of a man whose life is at risk?
How do I comfort him?
How do we justify joy?
How do we preserve it?
I am not discouraged because I despair. I am only discouraged for those who are not in despair. There is a time to mourn. There is a time to pray. And I know we-a collective we will rise.
To my black brothers and sisters, I am so sorry. I am sorry for your collective trauma that strikes both your necks and your souls. I am sorry you must constantly make the choice to preserve your mind or to watch the news. I am sorry we are still here. There are people with voices and with power who are on your side. And I believe your children’s lives will be safer because of the resilience you have already shown against these decades.
To my non-black brothers and sisters, please look in your mirror. The following are helpful resources to read and watch to understand systemic racism and white privilege in America. I will be joining you in reading and watching.
Watch:
“13th: From Slave to Criminal with one Amendment” (Netflix docu)
“When They See Us” (Netflix series)
“Explained” Ep. 1: The Racial Wealth Gap (Netflix episode)
“All American” (Netflix Show)
Read:
White Fragility -Robin Diangelo
Between the World and Me – Tanahesi Coates
Why are all the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria – Dr. Beverly Daniel Tatum
The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness- Michelle Alexander
The Bluest Eye – Toni Morrison
March – Graphic Novels by John Lewis Andrew Aydin and Nate Powell (epic)
This 2017 Canadian news post listing police-killings of black people in the US (i.e. this is not new, and does not include the three deaths we’ve seen in recent weeks) https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.cbc.ca/amp/1.4438618
Please comment with any resources you’ve found particularly helpful. Godspeed, friends.
