To My White Friends

The social discord has become personal now, and demonstrates why we need to cool off, and soon.  This week, I received a nasty, caustic email from a family member (for which this person later apologized.  And then I received an email from a very old friend (whose name will remain anonymous) and is reprinted below.  I did not respond immediately to it, but its content and condescending tone set me back on my heels.  My face turned purple and it took all the discipline at my disposal to refrain from ripping a sharp reply.

Instead, I will attempt a more measured and rational, and do it here, publicly, and unashamedly. 

Dear J.:

I am writing in response to the email you sent to me last week, and, presumably to a number of people on your contact list.  To be perfectly frank, I found your letter demeaning, condescending and patently offensive. 

It bludgeoned me right from the beginning.  It began with “To My White Friends” which immediately took my breath away.  You see, my friend, I do not have white friends.  I do not have black friends.  I do not have Hispanic friends.  I do not have Indian friends.  I simply have friends.  I do not see them in that dimension.  I am sorry that you do.  If it is important to you to segment friends along that dimension,  I suspect you have issues around that that you might wish to work out.  I simply do not.  White people are not a monolithic group, and neither are black people.  I actually have a number of friends of Indian descent, and I’m not quite sure where they fit into your classification system.

Your letter lacks self-awareness.  Shockingly, it asks, "Do I remark in admiration, but not a little surprise, at how "articulate" that black man was."  Perhaps you are unaware that was exactly how Joe Biden (the fellow you are going to vote for in November) referred to Barack Obama.    Or have you conveniently forgotten?  Will these blatantly racist words cause any hesitation to vote for him, "I mean, you got the first mainstream African-American who is bright and clean and a nice-looking guy. I mean, that's storybook, man?"  Or has that quote been erased from history like so many Christopher Columbus statues?

Your letter speaks of a “turning point” because of the protests, but conveniently omits the lawlessness, vandalism, destruction of property, and, yes, the destruction to black lives, black employment and black owned businesses. The upshot of your letter demands that I engage in some sort of critical self examination regarding how I treat black people.  You ask that I do a thorough examination of my behavior [towards blacks]:

“I think each of us can make a difference by taking the tough step of examining ourselves and correcting where we fall short, by calling on our friends and neighbors to change themselves, and by refusing to sit by silently while racial injustice occurs around us.”

What I find most offensive about this demand to do a self examination is a baked in assumption that I do not do this.  Most Christian sects and Jews already have a well established set of guidelines on how we are to treat other people, regardless of race.

Further, I am a Catholic.  As a Catholic, we do self examinations under two circumstances:

1.      To prepare for confession.

2.      To check for testicular cancer (or breast cancer, if you are a woman).

That’s it.  As to the former, Catholics have a well-established, set of guidelines for treating other people, regardless of color.  If we breach any of those, it’s called “sin” and we have an entire process devoted to admitting guilt, confessing it, asking for forgiveness, and doing penance.  That process is so vital to our faith, it is elevated to the status of sacrament. 

Your last line in your letter belies what this is all about.  It reads:

“If I prayed, I’d pray that every one of us accept that challenge.”

And herein lies the issue.  The connotation is that you don’t pray, that you don’t practice a religious faith.   Yet you implore me to practice whatever pseudoreligion you ascribe to when mine already has taught me how to treat others.

I believe in reciprocal arrangements.  I won’t try to convert you to Catholicism and you don’t try to convert me to whatever religious practices that you adhere to.  I won’t make assumptions about your behavior.  And you don’t make assumptions about mine.

After two weeks of burning, looting, and rioting, your demand that I examine ways in which I alter MY behavior displays a special kind of chutzpah.

________________________

Friends,

You are receiving this email because I care deeply for you and because I have been deeply troubled, as I’m sure you have. I hope you will grant me a few minutes of your time.

    

We have all watched the events of the last two weeks unfold almost in slow motion. I suspect most, if not all of you, have watched as I have – in horror, starting with the video of George Floyd’s murder, followed on by countless videos of abuse of many peaceful protesters by some in law enforcement and the opportunistic actions of rioters and looters who defile the memory of George Floyd and others before him – but also in admiration, at the hundreds of thousands of peaceful protesters who have taken to the streets across our country to demand change.

As the protests continue, some have suggested this could be a turning point for our country, that it could be a catalyst propelling us toward the promise our nation has always had, but which has consistently eluded many of our countrymen. I agree that it could be that. I certainly wish it. But it won’t happen on its own. And it won’t happen if the only people seeking to effectuate change are those taking to the streets. Because protests tend to eventually stall and ultimately to stop entirely, until the next provocation that brings people back out demanding change. Also, it won’t happen if the only voices demanding change are those in the communities most at risk.

I submit that change can happen in each of us without waiting for that provocation. I also submit that lasting change can only happen if those of us who happened to be born white contribute our voices. Loudly or softly. Publicly or with friends, family, neighbors, and acquaintances. And we need to do it today, tomorrow, and in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.

A starting point should be an examination of our own prejudices. It can be uncomfortable to do it, but we need to ask ourselves tough questions. At a minimum, I would propose we each ask ourselves what it is we do that perpetuates, or at exposes our complicity in, damaging racial stereotypes. Do I lock my doors when I drive through a black neighborhood? Do I assume that the chain wearing young black and Latino men hanging out in the neighborhood are “thugs” and criminals whom I should avoid because they no doubt mean to do me some harm? Do I clutch my bag a little tighter when I pass the black teenagers on the sidewalk but not do the same for the white teenagers? Do I assume that the young black guy in the fancy car is an athlete or a drug dealer? Do I assume that the black guy in the white neighborhood, or the group of black teenage boys in the store, is up to no good? Do I remark in admiration, but not a little surprise, at how “articulate” that black man was? These are just a few of the innumerable examples of pernicious racism that even the most enlightened among us engage in, often unconsciously, on a regular basis.

I think each of us can make a difference by taking the tough step of examining ourselves and correcting where we fall short, by calling on our friends and neighbors to change themselves, and by refusing to sit by silently while racial injustice occurs around us. I’m still optimistic enough that I think we can each make a difference. Individually and collectively, we can chip away at the yawning gap between the promise of our country and the reality that many of its citizens live on a daily basis.

In closing, if you have not read the open letter that Lee Pelton, the president of Emerson College, penned a few days ago, I’d recommend that you take the time to do so. I’ve included it below. It delivers a powerful message that cannot be repeated often enough. In that letter, President Pelton lays down a simple challenge I think can help move the needle in wiping out systemic racism. Systemic racism in our society won’t disappear overnight, but I think we can each make a start by answering the question President Pelton challenged us to ask:  “What changes will [we] make in [our] own life”?

If I prayed, I’d pray that every one of us accept that challenge.

Your friend,