I'm Racist

True confession. I don't want to be. I try so hard not to be. But I'm bombarded with racism in our society, and I find it creeping from my subconscious when I least expect it. Many people I know, especially many white people, get annoyed with me when I claim that most people are racist. "I'm not racist," they say. "I don't see color," others assure. I'm here to tell you that if you were raised in a western culture, and you are white, more than likely you're racist, even if you try so hard not to be. It's because in our culture, especially in the South, we find ourselves "surprised" if we meet a highly educated black person, or a wealthy African American who doesn't play sports or work in entertainment. Can you imagine being negatively pegged your entire life based on your phenotype? To be expected to never finish high school, let along college? To be expected to end up in prison, or living in the projects with illegitimate kids? To be poor your entire life? I can't, because I'm white. I have always been expected to go to college, get married, have children only after being married, have steady income and savings, parent my children responsibly, be cultured and well-traveled. These expectations were set in place from the time I was socialized, and, I would argue, heavily impacted my motivations, goals, and methods of "fitting the norm." So what does that say for the flip side of this picture, those who are expected to fail? How does that impact entire generations?

I know these are sensitive issues, and I think many white people don't want to face them because they think "slavery ended after the civil war. It's been over a century. Get over it." But our culture still grants primacy to those with "white" skin. Maybe, as a white person, I'm not supposed to talk about this? But I read a blog posting by a black professor tonight, and it convicted me so deeply. I started thinking through how many times I hear people say with such surprise, "oh, you study slavery and the history of racism?" Or "your summer reading for your US history kids was on black men in Reconstruction? Your black students will really appreciate that." I literally want to ask, "And why wouldn't my non-black students appreciate it too?" I get nauseaus when I hear people say of slavery in the south , "But the slaves liked being taken care of. They didn't want freedom." Or when people claim that "affirmative action" is racist against whites. Skin color is SO powerful, but we think that racism is no longer a game-changer in our society. I ask you, then, have you read the new laws against immigration in Arizona? Alabama? Georgia? If those aren't about racism, I don't know what is. Hispanics aren't "white" and therefore aren't acceptable. Spew at me all you want about them "not paying taxes" and "being here illegally," but I will shoot right back that the answer is not racially profiling them and intimidating them into pulling their children out of school and fearing going to the grocery store for being arrested. The answer is finding a peaceable, respectable way to naturalize them. 


Here's the excerpt from that blog, the words that got my whole rant started. Click here to read the whole posting. It's pretty powerful, for me at least. 

"...I don’t want to talk about race because it gives weight to a fiction that was created to oppress. It has no basis in biology and is a social construction in this country that was engineered to maintain access to free labor. The fiction created by race distorts the reality in which we live.

Plus, as a black person, I am called on often to speak for my “race.” I can never give an opinion without it being assumed to be that of a multitude. So when a white person asks me my opinion about an issue that can be related to race, I suspect that there is going to be a moment later when that white person is going to say, “Well, I have a black friend, Steve, who says…” And that will be the black authority on the subject.

Black people can’t talk to white people about race anymore. There’s really nothing left to say. There are libraries full of books, interviews, essays, lectures, and symposia. If people want to learn about their own country and its history, it is not incumbent on black people to talk to them about it. It is not our responsibility to educate them about it. Plus whenever white people want to talk about race, they never want to talk about themselves. There needs to be discussion among people who think of themselves as white. They need to unpack that language, that history, that social position and see what it really offers them, and what it takes away from them. As James Baldwin said, “As long as you think that you are white, there is no hope for you.”

When you went to Africa, you said “you were the minority for the first time in your life.” That’s not true. You have been the only adult in a room full of children, the only man in a room full of women, the only non-incarcerated person in a jail. In America if you were a minority at a hip-hop concert in Compton, you would still have the privilege that accrues unbidden to persons designated as white, with all of the political, social, and economic access that comes with it."

Something to thing about. I know I will.  To read more on racism in our society, read here a former post I wrote on racism.

Youthful conviction

If you read my blog, you probably realize that the idea of social justice is something I've been wrestling through. It's taken me years to even begin to reach the point of having my heart broken for the things that break God's heart. I used to be the one who wanted to help those less fortunate than me to make myself feel good, to "be a good Christian," and, probably on some level, to show my superiority. I honestly believed that I wasn't in "their" (meaning the poor) shoes because I worked hard. I had a job because I pursued it relentlessly. I wasn't in debt because I made good choices. I received an excellent college education because my studiousness allowed me to do so. Only recently have I realized that all of my opportunities came from my socioeconomic position. I am white, born to parents who taught me to value education, who sacrificed to allow me to thrive, who were able to move so that I could attend excellent public schools. While I wouldn't say that until recently I was apathetic to the poor and suffering, I will say that my heart was not broken for them as the Lord's is. 


At Furman, as I learned more of the human consequences of sin, I recognized the complexity of poverty and oppression. When I began to teach high school in Macon, I showed my FPD students the documentary Invisible Children. As someone who prizes education and despises ignorance, I wanted to enlighten my students to the world outside of their bubble. But it was their hearts that moved to ACT after hearing about the plight of child soldiers in Uganda by raising money to help fund schools. Now, with the students in my Christian Thought class, we've been talking through James 1:22-27:

"²²But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. ²³For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. ²⁴For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. ²⁵But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. 

²⁶If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. ²⁷Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world."

This idea of "being doers of the word" has been plaguing me. My heart is broken for the orphans, for mothers who can't feed their children, for the victims of human trafficking, for women denied education, for mothers dying in childbirth, for babies who contract HIV, for aging grandparents trying to provide for their grandchildren after AIDS ravaged their family, for countries still reeling from ethnic genocides, for gender-based abortions, for communities who have no clean water, for honor killings, for the fistula crisis in Africa, for Haitian children who still can't find their parents, and on and on and on. Sin has very real, painful, dire consequences. But what can I do about it?

As I read through my students' recently assigned papers answering the question of God's vision of social justice and how American Christians respond, I was humbled and inspired. Their youthful conviction struck me. One student wrote, "We as Americans are sheltered, spoiled, and most of the time blissfully unaware of the tragedies of everyday life in other countries...But when we show justice and God's love to people, we are following after God's own heart, because he cares about them deeply." Another student beautifully summarized, "Human nature keeps track of social justice by hours and calls it community service, but God's vision of social justice is constantly measured in the heart and demonstrated through words and actions." This student then continued, "Americans are narcissistic. Sinful nature causes us to focus on ourselves and forget those suffering around us, but Jesus begs us to travel through the narrow gate and go beyond the simple desires of our flesh."  (Can you tell I have a future writer on my hands!?) Another student wrote about God's association of himself as "defender of the poor" in Isaiah, determining that "God needs us to be earthly defenders, going out of our way to show people the love and mercy" that Christ showed us on the cross. She continued that "Christians have turned their faith into a habit, instead of creating a personal relationship with God. Since they have no relationship with the Lord, they cannot successfully make just relationships with society."

Most students decided that we as Christians fail to act on God's design for justice. Tim Keller argues for biblical justice based on the Hebrew term, mishpat, which means to treat people equitably and render what they are due, whether punishment, protection or care. However, Keller emphasizes that mishpat must work in tandem with chesedh,  the Hebrew term for "mercy." My students beautifully expressed their belief that God's vision of justice necessitates "doing justice out of merciful love," a mandate perfectly enacted through Christ's death for us on the cross. Jesus died to take our punishment, but he did so out of merciful love to protect us from eternal separation from God. How then could our hearts not transform and extend this same mercy to others? One student aptly concluded her paper with Psalm 33:5: 

^"5He loves righteousness and justice;    the earth is full of the steadfast love of the LORD."

I pray that I would help show God's steadfast love, righteousness and justice. And I'm thankful that my students' convictions helped remind me to act on these commands. As a teacher, I continually strive (obviously) to instruct my students; but in the meantime, my students end up teaching me so much along the way. 

Where were you?

Today in class, I asked my students if they remembered September 11, 2001. All of them were either in 1st or 2nd grade, and many of them remembered parents and teachers crying and being glued to the TV. One of my students said his mom told him the people jumping out of the towers were landing on trampolines, I guess in an attempt to shield his innocent heart from pain. I told them how I was a junior in high school, their own age now, and saw the plane sticking out of the tower on a TV in my school's library. It seemed like a bad movie. For the rest of the day, we watched the horror unfold, people leaping from the towers, the towers ultimately falling, hearing about the pentagon. My dad rushed out that afternoon to buy an American flag, embarrassed that we didn't own one to fly in remembrance.

As I spoke with my students today, it dawned on me that in the past ten years, I rarely, if ever, recall September 11. I don't pray for the families who lost so much, or who still suffer with sick family members who fell ill from inhaling the dust and debris during rescue attempts. I don't pray for mothers and fathers who lost all their children that day, or for wives and husbands who lost their spouses. I forget that many children are growing up one parent short because of that fateful day and the aftermath that followed. One of my students thanked me after class for letting them talk about their memories and honor those lost in the towers. Another of my students teared up and grabbed a friend's hand while listening to a little boy's oral history about losing his "Pop-pop" and wishing he could tell his grandad how much he loved him. On a Friday, a day the students are normally so antsy, chatty, and ready for the weekend, my students sat in silence and listened to these oral histories, these voices releasing their pain and asking others to remember their loved ones. The sorrow of this tragedy weighed on my students, as it did me.

The truth is, I wouldn't have thought to do anything if a parent hadn't emailed me a reminder to honor the memory of 9/11 victims. How soon we forget. I can only imagine the worst part of losing someone in a tragedy is that you feel like the world forgets about that person who was so dear to you and who was snatched away so abruptly.

NPR is gathering oral histories of victims' families and friends to help honor those lost in 9/11. Click here to listen to some of their stories and to remember and honor those who lost their lives.Scroll down to the bottom of that article to see many stories from those remembering 9/11. Click here to see NPR's special series reflecting on 9/11.

A Third-World Wallet

Recently I posted on freedom and our American mind-set that being free in life means being financially stable enough to purchase whatever stuff, experience, etc that we want. Today I read a great post from a missionary in Peru about spending money. Her third-world wallet has allowed her to see the flaws in our American mindset, and I thought what she said was much more eloquent than my posting. So, here are some excerpts, but click here to read the whole thing. 

"One last thing that becomes glaringly obvious when living in a developing country is how insulated from poverty we have built the US to be. Except for a few rare places, we have created a country where the haves and the have nots do not interact. We live in different communities, go to different schools, hang out at different places, and most disheartening to me, go to different churches. We, as the haves, have made sure that we do not cross paths with the have nots and have to face what living in poverty is like. And here's what I know to be truth because I have seen it happen again and again: when you enter the lives of people living in poverty, you are changed and therefore, how you spend your money is changed. 

Watch this video about the famine in East Africa. If you are purposely avoiding news of the famine, I dare you to enter this world for just a few minutes and watch this video. Will it make you think twice about how much you need to spend on your own food tonight? I believe it will and I believe that is why we avoid the poor. It is easier to be ignorant, but if you were that parent walking miles and miles just for clean water and food for your child, would you hope for more from your fellow human beings? Can we keep turning our backs on those in desperate need because we feel entitled to certain things and it just feels too hard to give them up? When it is someone you care about starving, you will move heaven and earth to help them. So, we have made sure that we don't know those who are starving. We don't want it to be our problem and we don't want to be inconvenienced. I know that sounds harsh, but it is true."

I hope you'll watch the video. If you're looking for somewhere trustworthy to donate money to alleviate the Horn of Africa's famine, check out World Vision.  Through government grants and their reputation for bringing highly organized, efficient help, World Vision is able to take our donations and multiply them greatly. In fact, World Vision is the largest US-based international humanitarian organization, according to a recent New York Times article.  


Moral of the story? Don't feel guilty for being blessed. Take advantage of it to help others. 

  

Take advantage of our "democracy"

OK, so I can't honestly say that we live in a democracy, but that's a debate for another day. We can still at least petition our congressmen and women in the hopes that they will listen. So let's take action!


There are over 27 million slaves worldwide, the most ever in world history. The International Justice Mission is sponsoring a letter campaign to pressure congress to pass the Trafficking Victims Reauthorization Act (TVPRA) that was initially passed in 2000 and has put some pressure on America and third world countries to enforce anti-traficking laws. So, tell Congress we want it passed again! Click here to write your email to your senator. It only takes 1 minute, and, according to an awesome book I'm reading called Half the Sky, US government diplomatic pressure has proven the MOST EFFECTIVE MEANS of curbing sexual exploitation in places like America, India, Cambodia, Thailand, and China, to name a few. Let's use our super-power status for good for a change. And do what your kindergarten teacher told you makes America great: Write your senator!

Are we really free?

How many times do we consider ourselves free, here in America? How many times, in school, work, play, family, among friends, etc, do we thank God for our "freedoms?" Freedom to work, to worship, to vote, to eat, to access healthcare, to have education, to benefit from protection under the law. Do all Americans benefit from these freedoms? No, they don't. But even more, are we really free to make our own choices, or are we constantly trying to keep up in a materialistic, consumer-driven, debt-ridden society? To buy the latest fashions and bask in the compliments of friends, or even better, strangers. To find that job with the great salary so we can buy what we want, go where we want, live where we want, and be "comfortable." In America, we associate "freedom" with financial security. I constantly find myself telling Tucker, "When we have money, can we do this/buy this/go there/support this ministry/adopt..." and so on. And, he gently reminds me, "What if we don't 'have money' in the classic American sense, Erika." 

So what if this mentality is flawed? What if in our race for consumption and more materialism, we're missing the point of true freedom, freedom to take blessings or hardships from the Lord's hand and devote them to his causes. I read something the other day about a family who has adopted 10 children. This couple is in their late 50s, and they should be close to retiring, to spending money on themselves after years of working hard. (Of course I can't remember where I read this posting) But the mother wrote something that challenged me so deeply. She said, "If you're spending more on massages, lattes, vacations, fashion, furniture" etc than you are on supporting those in need, you need to reassess your priorities. Apparently, John Piper says something similar in his book Don't Waste Your Life but I haven't read it. And the icing on the cake for this thought process was during my new teacher orientation the other day where all upper school teachers sat around and tried to articulate how we can teach our students at a Christ-centered preparatory school that God's version of success differs from that of the world. It's not that being wealthy is somehow sinful, or that striving in school and work is flawed, or even that taking a family vacation means you're being a poor steward of God's resources. Instead, it's deciding to follow God and his desires for how he's blessed you rather than running after yourself and the purposes you ordain vital. In Galations 5:13-14, Paul reminded us of Christian freedom: "13For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another. 14For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." 

What a challenge. This idea is the complete opposite goal of what society, and many Christians, live out. Imagine how we could change the world for God's kingdom if we strive to devote our resources and talents to his purposes instead of our own. The adoptive mom's blog (so sorry I can't link it in) reminded me that this doesn't just mean "tithing" faithfully or giving a little extra beyond tithe. She called tithing a "no brainer," yet unfortunately for many Christians, tithing is just too hard to wrap our brains and hearts around. 

I have no answers on how to "simply" implement this radical financial and stewardship revolution, because it's fighting against every fiber of our self-absorbed being. But I will leave you with a blog posting that I have linked here about our perceived American freedom versus the captivity of young children in Uganda. When reading about children being imprisoned, neglected, isolated, and attempting suicide as young as 10 just to end their misery, I can't help but wonder, how am I using my freedom? To pursue my own ends, or to love my fellow humans, even all the way in Africa? 

Why we should give

Last night, Tucker and I went to a nice dinner at 5 and 10 Athens to celebrate my graduation and our time in this city. Honestly, it was way overrated. And then I felt guilty for spending that much money on a meal, that wasn't even that good, when the money could have gone to really help someone in need. Stories about children suffering around the world shouldn't make me feel guilty though. It should make me realize my blessings and my ability to HELP alleviate the suffering. So why should we give? Because we can, even when we feel like we are poor. For $30/month, what it cost me to eat last night, I can provide schooling, healthcare, and food for a child in Africa, Haiti, Bangladesh, Ukraine, India, or a host of other places. How exciting is that?! For that small amount of money, I can change someone's life. Can we help every suffering child? No, not by ourselves. But, like the old starfish proverb, we can make a difference to that one who we take from suffocating after being stranded on the beach to rejuvenation after being thrown back in the sea. 


Read on for a story of how child sponsorship can save a life. 

Kanini, 13, herds cattle in exchange for food. Every couple of days, he receives a small amount of porridge — barely enough for one person, yet he always carries some home to share with his ailing grandmother. "[She] cannot do anything to fend for herself," he explains.    Struggling to survive in southern Zambia, Kanini and his grandmother have few options. Both of Kanini’s parents are dead. His grandmother is well into her eighties and is too weak to work. Each worries about the well-being of the other. "Even if I go for many days without food," says Kanini's grandmother, "it is all right, as long as my grandchild tells me that he ate something." Their neighbor, Rose, offers to share her food, but there's little to go around. Rose is a widow caring for 10 children of her own. As rising food prices push basic commodities like rice and cooking oil beyond reach, the community is fracturing. People used to share their food freely — especially with the elderly. Now it's more difficult to do so. "The hunger situation here is dividing us," says Rose. "Very few people will harvest enough this year." Still, Kanini dreams about the future. He desperately wants to attend school and take care of his grandmother. But he won't be able to do it alone. "I don’t go to school," he says, "because there is no one to sponsor me." For about $1 a day, you can help provide a child like Kanini with access to life’s most basic necessities — things like nutritious food, education, clean water, health care, and economic opportunities for their caregivers. Change a life. Sponsor a child today. Visit www.worldvision.org/helpachild.