I Cared
I cared
About racial justice
When my best friend was black
When I worked with in a majority Black community
When I dated a Black man
I cared
About racial justice
When I married a Black man
When I gained a Black family
When I had two Brazilian, Jamaican, American children
But it wasn’t
Until I lived where my children
Would receive the effects of being Black
That I was ready to do something about it
I cared
About racial justice
The whole time
But I didn’t care until action
I didn’t care to be bothered
I didn’t care to be uncomfortable
Until I had enough skin in the game
I am so sorry it took
Me so long to get here
But here I am now
It has been really hard for me to put into words why I don’t like the “All lives matter” response, even though I agree with the idea of it. Because when you react (and it is a reaction to the words “Black lives matter”) with those words, you are saying to many people, whether you mean to or not, that “No, there is not a problem here.”
I know the words “Black lives matter” hold a million different meanings to a million different people (much like words like “mother” and “father”), for a million different reasons, but to me they mean “Hey guys- there is a problem with racism here.”
To me, It isn’t explaining what I think the problem is, or why I think the problem is, or the solution: people add those definitions themselves. I agree with some, and disagree with some.
As we moved our multicultural family back to the USA, I felt a difference. Race in Brazil is a thing- but it is a different thing. I am not saying it is better or worse- I am saying it is different. As most people who have lived abroad will tell you, you have to figure out how to hold two cultures in your hands with grace.
When I got to the USA and started talking about how I felt about cultural differences on race, the first question I was asked (by white people only) was “Oh- are your daughters or husband being treated wrongly because of their race?” To which I honestly and openly replied “No, thank God!” To which they replied “Then what is the problem?” And many then went on to shut down the conversation.
They didn’t want me to try to explain (stumbling along, I’ll admit- it is taking me a long time to figure this out), they wanted me to justify them, their view, and say there wasn’t a problem. They wanted me to say “All lives matter” and move on with my life.
This hurt a lot. Because while I am not dealing with overt racism (thank God), there is something there- something real, something hurtful, something hard- that I keep pressing against. And to tell me it doesn’t exist is damaging. I get that they don’t see it: but I do. And to say it isn’t true calls me a liar. It is trying to push me into their story, which I am not a part of, and I can never return to- because I fell in love with a Black man, I gained a Black family, and I have children who are Black.
This doesn’t make me Black, it just means my reality will never not be connected with Black: and I am so glad.
What hurt the most is that the majority of the people who “All lives mattered” me (by this I mean said that there is not a race problem that needs to be faced, fixed, or talked about) were Christians. My brothers and sisters in Christ, who’d I’d turned to for a million other problems and help in times past: they were now telling me to move on, because this wasn’t a problem: I was making it up. It was fake news.
I would be wrong to not add that there were key Christians (who were white, if that matters) who wept with me. Who pushed me forward in my journey. Who suggested resources and balanced my rants and listened. Because of them I gathered grace to intentionally forgive those who had minimized and rejected my cries of pain in their own ignorance. And because of them, I kept moving forward to the most important question in pain: “What does God want to do in this hard, horrible situation?” They encouraged me forward toward redemption and love and grace, and I am forever grateful.
It is hard to explain the mountain of difference between the questions “Then what is the problem?” And “What does God want to do with this problem?”
One is denying the problem, the other is accepting that it might not be their problem, but it is yours. One is requiring me to find the solution right then, right now (and make sure it is better than their idea of a solution) while the other one realizes that this is bigger than us and we need God- Oh heavens, we need our God!
One is assuming they come from a place of having answers, and the other realizes all true answers come from God.
Here is the crazy thing- you can think that “All lives matter” and still ask the second question instead of the first. You can believe “Black lives matter” and be asking the first question, as an accusation. How we relate to people matters, even if we disagree. And how we relate to people reveals our heart more than we know. I won’t say love trumps truth. I won’t say truth trumps love. I will say God is both, and He calls us to be like Him. There are a lot more “ands” in the world (this is true and that is true) than we think.
Dear white Christians, please understand that that “All lives matter” is true, but if you say it in reaction to “Black Lives Matter” you are shutting down the important conversation about the problems our culture is facing about race.
We don’t have to agree about what the problems are, or what is wrong with “Black lives matter,” or why we have the problems, or what the solutions are. There is a time for all of those conversations: but not right here. Right now, we just have to be able to sit and talk and be listened to and loved. I need you to be able to understand that it might not be a problem to you- but it is to me. That doesn’t mean I hate you or think you are horrible. It does mean that there is work to do, and it will include you, because you are my brother or sister in Christ, and that’s what being family is.