George Floyd. Ahmaud Arbery. Breonna Taylor. David McAtee. Tony McDade. Eric Garner. Trayvon Martin. Michael Brown.
And Darrell Fields, an amazingly talented homeless guitarist who was burned to death in his tent in Los Angeles. And so many other disproportionately homeless Blacks who have died without any obituary, sometimes without anyone even knowing their name.
And Black children who are twice as likely to die of diabetes.
And Black babies dying in infancy at twice the rate of White babies.
And Black mothers dying in childbirth two to three times more often than White mothers.
And Blacks dying of COVID-19 at significantly higher rates than Whites.
Racism has killed too many.
We cannot consider the poor without acknowledging that so many Americans are poor, and kept poor, due to systemic racism. The murders of George Floyd and too many others have shown us, being Black in America should not be hazardous to your health. Black Americans are significantly more likely to suffer injustice, to live in poverty, to be homeless, and to be food insecure. Life expectancy for Black Americans is lower than any other racial group, because racism kills.
Racism has killed too many.
We live in the richest country in the world, but somehow Black Americans and minority communities see little of that wealth. During the pandemic, many Black Americans have been dubbed essential workers, ensuring that White Americans have groceries delivered to their doorsteps, while living in a food desert themselves. They're delivering dinners to the doorsteps of beautiful homes while being denied access to home ownership themselves. They're risking their health so that White America can stay safe, while their jobs do not provide them with enough income to afford health care.
Racism has killed too many.
It’s not enough for us to call out the systemic and embedded racism that privileges White America. We must acknowledge our own complicity in supporting a system that maintains power by exploiting Black America. Far too often we shy away from terms like racism for fear of offending the privileged, and fail to amplify the brave voices seeking social justice through direct action. If we focus solely on feel-good, non-threatening stories of hope and salvation we ignore and even whitewash the discrimination and bigotry. We need to hear stories of hope to lift us up. But sometimes we need stories that bring us down to Earth and remind us how much work there is to do. As Proverbs 31:8-9 tells us, we must “speak out for those who cannot speak” for themselves and “defend the rights of the poor and the needy.”
Racism has killed too many.
The conversations we’re having with each other, and ourselves, place everyone at an undeniable inflection point. We can choose to fight racism, to be “anti-racist” as Ibram X. Kendi so eloquently says, or we have chosen to support racism. We can no longer be “not racist” or “not political” or “not controversial” or “above the fray” or “color blind”. In choosing to fight racism we may lose friends and supporters, but we cannot un-see what we have seen.
Racism has killed too many.
And Darrell Fields, an amazingly talented homeless guitarist who was burned to death in his tent in Los Angeles. And so many other disproportionately homeless Blacks who have died without any obituary, sometimes without anyone even knowing their name.
And Black children who are twice as likely to die of diabetes.
And Black babies dying in infancy at twice the rate of White babies.
And Black mothers dying in childbirth two to three times more often than White mothers.
And Blacks dying of COVID-19 at significantly higher rates than Whites.
Racism has killed too many.
We cannot consider the poor without acknowledging that so many Americans are poor, and kept poor, due to systemic racism. The murders of George Floyd and too many others have shown us, being Black in America should not be hazardous to your health. Black Americans are significantly more likely to suffer injustice, to live in poverty, to be homeless, and to be food insecure. Life expectancy for Black Americans is lower than any other racial group, because racism kills.
Racism has killed too many.
We live in the richest country in the world, but somehow Black Americans and minority communities see little of that wealth. During the pandemic, many Black Americans have been dubbed essential workers, ensuring that White Americans have groceries delivered to their doorsteps, while living in a food desert themselves. They're delivering dinners to the doorsteps of beautiful homes while being denied access to home ownership themselves. They're risking their health so that White America can stay safe, while their jobs do not provide them with enough income to afford health care.
Racism has killed too many.
It’s not enough for us to call out the systemic and embedded racism that privileges White America. We must acknowledge our own complicity in supporting a system that maintains power by exploiting Black America. Far too often we shy away from terms like racism for fear of offending the privileged, and fail to amplify the brave voices seeking social justice through direct action. If we focus solely on feel-good, non-threatening stories of hope and salvation we ignore and even whitewash the discrimination and bigotry. We need to hear stories of hope to lift us up. But sometimes we need stories that bring us down to Earth and remind us how much work there is to do. As Proverbs 31:8-9 tells us, we must “speak out for those who cannot speak” for themselves and “defend the rights of the poor and the needy.”
Racism has killed too many.
The conversations we’re having with each other, and ourselves, place everyone at an undeniable inflection point. We can choose to fight racism, to be “anti-racist” as Ibram X. Kendi so eloquently says, or we have chosen to support racism. We can no longer be “not racist” or “not political” or “not controversial” or “above the fray” or “color blind”. In choosing to fight racism we may lose friends and supporters, but we cannot un-see what we have seen.
Racism has killed too many.
RSS Feed
