Lessons I’m learning as a white man…
If black people are not speaking out against “black on black” crime as much as they are speaking out against systemic racism, social injustice, and police brutality then are they being hypocritical?
Did you know that the number one cause of death for all teenagers in America is accidents? But did you know that for male black teenagers 12 to 19 years old, homicide surpasses accidents according to a study by the CDC in 2010. Little has changed in 10 years sadly.
I want to challenge the point of view that many of my white friends have that I myself once shared. “Black people should start talking more about how they are killing themselves if they want to be taken seriously when they cry out against racism and the many ways racism manifests in society.”
But do we as white people hold ourselves to that same standard? Do I say to my friends who are outspoken against abortion that they need to be equally outspoken about sex trafficking if they want to earn the right to speak out against abortion? Do I say to the person who invites me to go volunteer at a local homeless feeding program that their work to end homelessness will never really be taken seriously until they do more to stop the opioid epidemic. Are we as a church guilty of hypocrisy because we sponsor children in the DR but not in Haiti? I’ll ask again, if we don’t hold ourselves to this standard, why do we hold black people to this standard?
Could someone clarify for me at what point did society agree on a rule that black people are not allowed to have the same privileges, the same standards afforded to white people…oh wait…
If you have an opinion about what is happening in the inner cities of America and you are white or black or brown and you haven’t read The Color of Law, then let me say to you as politely as I can, shut up. If you haven’t lived in an urban neighborhood then let me suggest to you that you should spend more time listening than talking.
I’m 53 years old. For a third of my adult life, I lived on Home Street in Barton Heights in the inner city of Richmond. For ten years I was a regular visitor in many of the housing projects on the east side of Richmond. I was not a pastor then. I worked in banks and call centers but my heart broke for people whose lives were breaking.
I joined a missions trip to NYSUM (New York School of Urban Ministry) and it changed my life. Late one night I drove into Richmond as a young adult after returning from my missions trip and sat on a bench overlooking my city, a bench just outside what was then the WRVA tower in Church Hill. And God spoke to me as clearly as I speak to you, not in an audible voice but one I felt deep inside. He said, “A well lit room doesn’t need another candle.” The next day I started shopping for apartments in the city. And while I lived in the Fan district for a year, I soon began looking for HUD homes in the inner city and eventually settled on Home Street.
A few years after living there I was walking down the street with some kids I had been taking to church with me on the weekends and they started making fun of white people by doing impressions of white people they knew. And when they ran out of people they knew, they just did random impressions. They were hilarious! Finally I looked at them and said, “Hey, you know I’m white, right?” They said, “Mista Fred, you ain’t white!” And I learned something that day, to them white wasn’t a color, it was mindset and one I knew I’d spend the rest of life resisting.
At some point you have to be willing to posture yourself as a student of others. At some point you have to stop feeling threatened by the progress other races deserve. At some point you have stop negating the viewpoints of others because they conflict with your own experiences. At some point you have acknowledge our race, the white race, created the communities that are now some of the most violent in America.
The Color of Law does not excuse the choices people in urban communities make, the crimes they choose to commit, the violence they choose to enjoin. But just as people will be held to account for the sins they commit against one another, so too will those who created the environments that provoked those sins. The book of Proverbs in Scripture is both inspiring and sobering. Proverbs is a book of wisdom every chapter and verse and a book of caution every chapter and verse. Both the common citizen and the privileged by power will give an account one day as we stand before Jesus for all we did, especially how our actions touched not just those we knew but those who came generations after us.
I’ve got an idea. The next time you expect to enjoy some Constitutional right, think to yourself, “I’m going to deny myself this right until I figure out a way to stop white criminals from committing crimes against other white people.” Because that makes perfect sense.
Lessons I’m learning as a white man…