Letters to my sons: from a very white mama to her white sons, on race and current events

Dear sons,

At nearly 2 and just barely past 5 months, you are both blissfully unaware of current events outside of what time lunch is and whether we're going to the playground or not.  You haven't processed #BlackLivesMatter or #ICantBreathe or #Ferguson or #HandsUpDontShoot or #EricGarner, and as a result, your only connection to #EnoughIsEnough correlates to your thoughts on the portions of protein that mommy requires you to eat at dinner prior to getting a cookie.

But there's been a lot going on lately, pertaining to race, in our country, and a lot of the brokenness which has long been there has been thrust into the limelight (again).  And a lot of black people (and a few white people) are hurting, grieving, sad, angry.  And a lot of white people are talking loudly, angry, defensively.  And a lot of other white people aren't talking about it at all.  And a lot of other black and white (and other races of) people fit and don't fit in those categories, so I won't attempt to oversimplify or categorize them - simply acknowledge that they're in the mix also.  Suffice to say, there's a lot of hurt and a lot of brokenness and a lot of mess.

A few days ago, a friend of mommy's wrote a letter to her black son, in her grief and process over recent events, with her promises to him and his white brother.  It was beautiful, and true, and from the heart, and she says so much, so much better than I ever will be able to.   But it also got me thinking, about what I want to teach you both, what I would say to you both, in light of Ferguson, or Eric Garner, or our justice system and race, or any of the many different "incidents" that have happened, both carried by the media and those that remain hidden.

Mommy was raised on a farm, in the middle of the "suburbs" of one of the tiniest towns in very rural North Carolina.  My life growing up, was about as white as it could possibly be.  It wasn't until college that my own "colorblind" lenses began to come off, and I began a very slow journey of learning how other people's lives were different than mine, how skin color or "ethnic-ness" of name still does affect the ways that people are treated and received.  It wasn't until college, and the decade since, that I actually began to listen to other people's stories and learn how to listen first, how to love with words and actions, and how to be actively for someone else whose story was different from my own. I'm still learning, honestly, and I don't always engage well, or even at all.  I am not good at this.  But I am choosing to engage because it matters.  Because it's not just a race issue.  It's a human issue.  And it effects people that I know and love.  And in my bumbling response, I would prefer to ask for grace and forgiveness, than to add my voice to the silence.  And so I do both even now.

Sons, you are both beautiful, beautiful boys - with blond hair and light colored eyes and white skin.  And the way that you are is fearfully and wonderfully made, please make no mistake.   Being white is not a bad thing - it is a good and beautiful thing.  But as a result of your skin color, and the fact that you were born into a middle class, well-educated family, many people would tell you that this "issue" of race or these "issues" are not yours to deal with.  By virtue of your heritage, unfortunately, you have the luxury of choosing whether or not you will engage, before you ever determine how well or poorly you will engage, with anything pertaining to the tattered race relations in our country.

I am pleading with you, please do not buy into this lie.

We pray that you will walk in the faith that your daddy and I have, which teaches that we are called to care for the well-being of our brothers and sisters; that we are a Kingdom of people who retain beautiful and celebrated ethnicity and are not monochromatic; that as a body, when one part is hurting, the rest is hurt as well;  that we are called to use our voices to defend justice, to speak up for the oppressed - but even if you don't - even if our faith does not continue to be yours, the truth is we are human beings, and because of our common humanity, we must long for all men (and women) to be treated with compassion, justice, humanity, and yes, equality.  And in that, I hope you will see the role that you can play, the ways in which your voice can be used, and will chose to engage rather than absent yourselves.

I would entreat you, first and foremost, to listen.  And to listen to understand, not in order to respond.  Hear people.  Hear people who are different than you. Hear their hearts, their hurt, and their desires.  Understand that you might not understand.  Leave your opinions at the door.  And listen first instead.  Regardless of the specifics of either of these cases, please hear the collective weeping and grieving and anger of men and women who are intelligent and wise and experienced, and different from you, and ask "why?" And listen.  If you only do this, I guarantee you will respond differently, even if just with more compassion.  And when the time comes to act - and there almost always is a time to act - ask others who know more than you, who understand better than you, "what can I do?" This applies in any situation where you are seeking to aid someone who is hurting, angry, or grieving.

Along that same vein, please understand that #blacklivesmatter does not infer that white lives don't.  Nor does it infer that being white is a bad thing.  It is not a zero sum game.  No amount of value added or given to another human being detracts from the inherent value that you yourself possess.  So, in as much as it is possible for you, leave defensiveness behind.  Grief over injustice, grief over injustice perpetuated by people who look like you, does not mean that you are being shamed.  It should cause us to examine our hearts, our biases, our actions and our motives, yes, absolutely.  And pray to God that he will change us where we need to be changed.  It should lead to repentance, where needed.  But it should not lead to shame or defensiveness or a sense that we have to lose value in order to recognize the inherent value in one different than us.

But... at the same time, please recognize that there are ways in which our system of government, our history, and our culture, has given you unique welcome and privilege.  You, as white, middle-class, (hopefully) educated men, will have very few rooms that you cannot walk into.  Very few tables at which you will not be welcome to join.  Very few places in which your voice is not invited.  Your odds of a good job, odds of higher financial earnings, odds of incarceration, by no differentiation other than skin color, are better than those of some of our brothers and sisters.  As before, this is NOT to be a place of shame.   Rather, it is a place of invitation.  How will you use your voice and your position?  What will you say?  Who will you speak up for?  Who will you create room for?  And sons, this comes from the bottom of my heart... please please notice, who isn't present.  Please notice, whose voice is not heard.  Not based purely on numbers - but because they are your friends, your neighbors, and your family, that are not at the table.  [Which implies that I hope you actually have real, deep relationships with friends, neighbors and family that are not like you, that you love deeply.  And that's something Daddy and I need to model for you.]  It's not easy.  It takes work.  And it takes thinking outside of yourself and what you want or need or are comfortable with.  But, this, little ones, is the type of men that I pray that you are.  Your strength, your opportunities, and your power are most strong when they are used on behalf of others.

This is my prayer for you.

And sons, beware too much power or authority in any situation.  Untempered, unchecked authority in any situation is dangerous - this is why the US stands so firmly behind democracy, and checks and balances.  Might does not equal right.  Beware any situation in which people in power are given a pass to those checks and balances.  What is just and good and right will stand up to test and has no reason to fear scrutiny.  Beware of this where you find yourself in positions of power.  And do not be afraid to support the authority that you find yourself under, by advocating for it to be checked.  Even if you are the only voice that does so.

Please do not hear what I am not saying - I am not advocating for violence or crime to be unchecked.  As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure no one is.  Rather, I am longing for the racial inequalities, the unspoken biases, and long standing imbalances in our culture and our systems be addressed. To be changed.  To be healed.  For both white and black, men and women, to be able to have the same faith in our systems, that justice will be served equally, without fear, that right will be done by them.  And I know, from my only deep recesses of ugly fear, my own biases, which I will admit to you in humble repentance, as well as from statistics, and the stories of those I love, that this is not always so.  And I am asking you, sweet boys, to engage, to be active participants in changing this.

Do not be afraid of the ugly - and there is ugly everywhere.  And I guarantee you, if you step into this maze of our tattered race relations in the US, you will see the ugly.  On all sides.  And in yourself.  Corruption, crime, bigotry, hatred, racism, hurt, awkward, misunderstanding, abuse, and centuries of messy history.  If you enter into this conversation with a savior complex and a hope of fixing things, you will quickly becomes discouraged and cynical.

But.

But.  If you enter in, humbly, with a posture of learning, of repentance when needed, and more importantly, listening, and speaking on behalf of others rather than yourself, you will become a small but crucial part of the difference that we long to see happen in our life-time.  You - as listening, speaking, acting, humble, compassionate white men - are a vital part of the changing tide of race relations in the US.  Your voice matters. Your power matters.  You are a part of bringing Dr. King's dream, and Scriptures' imperative (Amos 5), of "justice [that] rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream."

Your daddy and I love you both so very very much.  And we are so proud of you, and the little men that you already are.  And it is our promise to you, that we will continue to learn, continue to grow, continue to engage alongside you.  That we will repent in front of you, and to you.  That we will ask for forgiveness, for grace, and for instruction, from you, and in front of you.  That we will ask for help from those wiser than us as we seek to teach you what we ourselves are learning.  That we will seek to model that which we call you into.  And that we will pray daily for you, and with you, even as we pray for our neighbors and our world.  We will not choose apathy, even when it's easier or more comfortable or fits better with nap schedules.

We love you, sweet boys.  And we pray that in your lifetime, we would in fact see a turning of the tide of race relations in the US.  That justice and righteousness would roll down.  And "culture" and "ethnicity" and "race" would no longer mark disadvantage or different treatment, but would be celebrated as the beautiful parts of the Kingdom to come that they are.

Love,
Mommy