I don’t know about you, but I didn’t sleep much last night. More dead black men killed by police officers. Children traumatized for life. Five dead police officers. Our beloved America feels like a dark, somber, hopeless place. Now that these killings are on social media, no one can deny the problem. Systemic racism is not new. Overuse of deadly force against black men is not new. The killing of police officers is not new, either. Now we watch it happen.
While I do not begrudge anyone their personal faith, believe it or not, praying for peace is not enough. Thoughts and prayers are not enough; not while people bleed to death on sidewalks. Praying for peace serves one purpose: to make yourself feel better and there is nothing wrong with that. We would probably all like to feel better right now. Send thoughts and prayers; by all means, do that. And then get off your fat, white, royal wally and do something about it, because we have no right to relax. I am speaking to myself here as much as anyone. I have not lifted a finger to involve myself in this struggle beyond sharing stuff I didn’t write on Facebook, aka lip service. I mean, I hardly ever even see black people in my white corner of town. I see cops; they park outside the coffee shop in the park where I run and I feel safe and protected in case a seagull tries to snatch my hat. Let’s be clear: racism is a WHITE problem and will not change until white people like myself give enough of a crap to put down our phones and get to work in our communities. It means getting uncomfortable. It means getting political. It means doing something.
As Trevor Noah so succinctly put it, we can, indeed we MUST, be both pro-law enforcement AND pro-black people. It is not the job of black people to stop racism. It is the job of white people. In the same way that rape culture will never disappear without the direct involvement of men, racism will never be squelched without the direct involvement of white people. It is not the job of the black community to tell us how, either, yet someone has graciously done so. So what’s a sheltered fat-assed white woman to do?
I am still working my way through these. Let’s get to work because I read somewhere that faith without works is dead.