The Silence of My Friends
It isn’t enough to only say, “you care”
It was June 17, 2015. Dylann Roof, a 21-year old from Columbia, South Carolina, entered the Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, at around 8pm posed as a white man looking for prayer in a black church. The participants of the prayer group, all of whom were black, invited this stranger in and welcomed him to pray with them. About an hour later, six women and three men were shot, and ultimately killed. In Roof’s words the reason for murdering these women and men, was, “I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country. And, you have to go.”
“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Fast forward to 2020 and the days following the murder of George Floyd, the intensity of division I see now is disheartening. The simple phrase, “Black lives matter,” has brought out the worst in many. Anger, disgust, divisiveness, are abound in my nation. However, simultaneously, I have never felt so much love, unity, and concern from others. It’s jarring and it isn’t lost on me that some of the people who are struggling with me are white. Some, out of guilt. Some, out of shame. Some are just conflicted.
In a previous writing, I provided my observation stating,
The response by some was visceral. Some people I have known for decades said, “they were so disappointed (in me).” Others called me “a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” I was told that, “I didn’t do anything to help the race relations (by providing my perspective on the murder of George Floyd).” I was even accused of wanting to “cancel white people.”
In my best attempt to have a bit of compassion for those who disagree, I can imagine that living during our country’s latest “reckoning” is difficult, particularly for white men. They probably feel attacked in a way white men haven’t been attacked in many millennia (if not throughout history). However, is there no recognition that the reckoning is occurring specifically because white men have not only contributed to, but controlled the telling of history since ancient Greece? It seems it is easier for them to say, “not only will I not accept that change is necessary, I refuse to even consider history in an effort to understand our current state better.”
My observation, in more detail, speaks to how our country is guilty of some incredible atrocities and evil deeds. Literally, I have been told, “slavery ended in 1865 and you should get over it.” However, that fails to account for Jim Crow, The Red Summer of 1919, the burning of Black Wall Street, redlining, segregation, The Southern Strategy, to literally just name a few. Yet, as we are discussing why the black community has broadly lagged behind other races, for some, it is not acceptable to provide these truths — because, in their eyes, it either didn’t happen, or it had no impact on today’s black community. They believe the USA is (nearly) perfect. Somehow, in their minds, these facts are excuses and should not be discussed.
This denial is in stark contrast to the desire from many white people to not destroy the historically racist symbols of (white) America when discussing the dismantling of confederate statues throughout the country. It is a bit ironic that while discussing the defense of the Constitution, we hear them support the imagery of men who were literally traitors to that same Constitution, however they defend it by suggesting it is “our history.” Yet, I am held to task for even providing an argument that white people cannot both celebrate American history (or e.g., confederate statues) while ignoring the impact of that same violent history on its citizens.
It is hypocrisy by definition.
Is my right to speak on my perspective only acceptable when I agree with them? Is it wrong to call out the facts of history? Is it improper to challenge the merits of their arguments?
Is it right to question the motive of companies that say “Black lives matter” but don’t truly support diversity with action? Yes. Should I also celebrate step 1 — just uttering the words “Black lives matter”? Yes. I can do both. Is it right to question sports leagues like NASCAR, who have allowed an environment that is intentionally offensive to people who look like me? Yes. Can I acknowledge that they took step 1 by outlawing the confederate flag at their races? Yes, I can do both. We need to acknowledge all history, not just the history that is beneficial to one’s own narrative.
Is it hypocritical to suggest that I need to be tougher when it comes to symbols like Confederate flags and supporting the statues of people who decided playing by the rules of the Constitution was not acceptable? Yes. Why? Because simultaneously those same people who are suggesting I be tougher on this are not tough enough themselves to allow Colin Kaepernick to simply kneel during a song.
I have been asked dozens of questions by dozens of white people, who are essentially asking “what do I do?” I have been in dozens of conversations with dozens of black folks asking, “what should white people be doing.” I will offer this…
Care.
Some might argue that “I already care — therefore, I have done enough.” Caring in silence or by nodding your head when someone else is speaking isn’t enough for me. Caring is acknowledging that there is a problem and action, beginning with holding white people you know accountable to the facts of history. Not everyone is supposed to speak at rallies. Not everyone is required to write essays about the issue. You aren’t even required to hug three black people today. You are, however, required to speak and challenge racist words, writings, or activity. Though it is exhausting, there are no longer excuses for failing to speak.
I have seen so many memes and comments on social media that I find offensive, and it is disappointing that those “friends” who have felt it necessary to hold me accountable for my words and opinions, refuse to hold those people who spread rhetoric that I personally find abhorrent to the same level of scrutiny. In Dr. King’s words, you cannot be silent.
Did someone fail to challenge Dylann Roof? Did it begin with a meme? Was his vitriol ignored by someone who failed to see what he was becoming?
To be clear, I do not speak for all black people, and nor should I, anymore than Dylan Roof speaks for all white people. I do however motivate each of you to have the courage to engage in a conversation with someone with whom you disagree, listen to their opinion, and actively debate it. Some of the most comforting, productive, and encouraging conversations I have had during this period have been with those who are willing to discuss my opinion even though they disagree with it.
For others, you can’t hurt me with your words of hate however, for those that consider me a friend, it is your silence that I will remember.
