Mennonites: The OG Anti-Racist Heroes

Three hundred and thirty seven years ago this week (1683, in case that math takes too long) the first Mennonites arrived in what's now the United States and founded Germantown - now a neighborhood in Philadelphia. After sharing a meal with the local indigenous people (probably Lenape) Francis Daniel Pastorius, a German Mennonite lawyer and teacher wrote, "they have never in their lives heard the teaching of Jesus concerning temperance and contentment, yet they far excel the Christians in carrying it out.”

Anniversaries are natural times to tell stories. We use birthdays to tell our children about when they were born, wedding anniversaries to tell the stories of meeting and getting married, the anniversary of our church to tell stories of its founding and its first families. For some of us white folks, though, telling our immigration stories has become a little cringe-y. Our histories include colonization, enslavement of other humans, intentional and internalized bias based on white supremacist notions. So, when I read the quote above on the Salt Project's Theologian's Almanac, and shortly afterward the following quote about those first Mennonites in Jason Reynolds YA book Stamped: Racism, Anti-Racism and You, (a "remix" of Ibram X. Kendi's Stamped from the Beginning) I was psyched!

Mennonites didn't want to leave behind one place of oppression to build another in America, so they circulated an antislavery petition on April, 1688, denouncing oppression due to skin color by equating it with oppression due to religion. Both oppressions were wrong. This petition - the 1688 Germantown Petition Against Slavery - was the first piece of writing that was antiracist among European settlers in colonial America.

Yes! Mennonites, recognized as the OG anti-racists! And they did it based on the teaching of Jesus. Patting myself on the back over here for coming from such enlightened and woke white folks. Well, sort of. My own Mennonite ancestors immigrated to Canada in the late 19th century also fleeing oppression in southern Russia, also seeking religious freedom and opportunity to thrive in a new environment. And, of course, using the advantages of whiteness to cheaply purchase land that had been stolen from indigenous people.

The theme this month for children's and youth spiritual formation is "Making Sense of Our Stories" and our stories are complicated. When we're building our storytelling repertoire, it's really important to be able to understand our story from all perspectives, so that we don't repeat mistakes of oppression and injustice - and so that we can participate in repair. Authors like Jennifer Harvey and Anastasia Higginbotham, who write about talking with white kids about race, talk about the importance for developing a white identity that's grounded in more than just stories of hate, destruction and oppression. We also need to find stories of ancestors and heroes (Mennonite and otherwise) who were active in interrupting patterns of oppressions like racism and white supremacy. Those are stories we can embrace and seek to identify with.

Reynolds writes about the history of race and racial inequity in Stamped but he's insistent that it isn't a history book. "This book, this not history history book, this present book, is meant to take you on a race journey from then to now, to show why we feel how we feel, why we live how we live, and why this poison, whether recognizable or unrecognizable, whether it's a scream or a whisper, just won't go away." And then he tells stories - stories of wrongness and stories of people getting in the way of that wrong.

All that to say: tell your stories. Look for the stories that are hidden and find out why. Look for the stories that haven't been told and tell them. Look at the stories of the country and community and think about where and how your people intersected with them. Amplify the stories of justice and learn from them. And may we be the ancestors whose stories our children will tell with pride.

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A final note, speaking of stories, here are a couple book related links I've come across recently. Of course, everyone should read Stamped and everything else that Jason Reynolds has written. And that Ibram X. Kendi has written (I'm still working on that myself.) Also, UW Bookstore has created anti-racist book kits for kids and adults of all ages. And The Conscious Kid has a reading list for kids from 0-18 on confronting anti-blackness and on how to support conversations on race, antiracism and resistance.
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image: Thones Kunder's house, 5109 Germantown Avenue, Philadelphia PA, where the 688 Petition Against Slavery was written

Making Mistakes

I make a lot of mistakes. Because of the nature of my work, I often make them publicly. I get the hymns wrong, completely forget that I'm supposed to be on prayers on a particular Sunday, mix up the order of service. I feel like it's almost my calling card at this point. And thanks be to God, my congregation is so gracious with me when I mess up. I count on them to call me out so that I can make up for and repair the mistakes.

This week in worship, my really dumb mistake was bringing a story Juneteenth to a children's time in May (if this is the first you've heard of this holiday read more here). Of course, Jonathan stood up and took credit for the mistake; it was his suggestion that because Sunday was the nineteenth, I should read a Juneteenth book. But duh! I knew it was May, I just didn't make that connection. So I was embarrassed. And y'all were gracious as usual. And I read the book Juneteenth for Mazie by Floyd Cooper anyway.

The other mistake that I made with this book, when I talked about enslaved people, was the softening the language I used to describe enslavement. I can't remember exactly what I said but it was something along the lines of, "Black people weren't treated fairly and weren't treated kindly."  I did not address the cruelty, violence and degradation of being enslaved.  I was called our after reading this book. Called in, actually. A term I've come across recently, which I like. I was called in to conversation that challenged me not to pretty-up slavery - or the contemporary experiences of blackness - because I think my white audience can't handle it. Even if they are children.

Even though I was the one who, after reading Jennifer Harvey wrote about having to break our (white) children's hearts so that they can experience a deeper empathy that prepares them to be anti-racist, I was trying to make the language nice and palatable for my young audience - and the rest of the the congregation as well. I floundered at the moment for how to talk about what slavery was and didn't do a great job. I also didn't to justice to the ongoing and persistent treatment of Black people intentionally and systemically because of white supremacy.

"Niceness is not courageous." Robin Diangelo says in this video about the problem with white folks thinking that being nice is the antidote to racism. Oof. Gut punch. So I pick myself up and try to do better. Be better. Have better conversations that do less harm. If you'd like to continue the conversation about Juneteenth in anticipation of its arrival next month, there are a few more books for kids you can look at in addition to the one I read. Another that I've read an liked myself is All Different Now by Angela Johnson. And you can also check out this list of Juneteenth books for young readers.

Tangentially Related Recommendation:
The television series Altanta created by Daniel Glover and the episode Juneteenth in particular, which was one of my favorites.

Follow up on Last Week:
More books for pre-k and elementary school aged kids about Ramadan and Eid, the celebration at the end of Ramadan, can be found here.

The Day You Begin

There will be times when you walk into a room and no one is quite like you.
Maybe it will be your skin, your clothes or the curl of your hair.
There will be times when no one will understand the way words curl from your mouth,
The beautiful language of the country you left behind...
And because they don't understand the room will fill with laughter until the teachers quiets everyone...
There will be time when the words don't come.
Your own voice, once huge, now smaller.

I love every, single thing I've ever read from Jacqueline Woodson.  (In fact I wrote about some of her middle grade fiction here.) This beautiful book about the fear of new beginnings is no different.  I got teary just from reading the preview pages online. Beginnings are hard! We who have had so many first days of school can easily forget that our children are staring into the unknown and possibly scary when they walk into a new classroom or a new school for the first time.

Beginnings can be full of anxiety, especially if you have a kid that leans that way anyway.  What will my teacher be like? Will the work be too hard? Who will be my friend?  Am I wearing the right thing? I don't want to leave my mom! Woodson's book layers in the additional complexity of language and race and offers an opportunity to ask, "Why do you think 'the curl of her hair' might make her fell out of place?" and "What make you feel unsure or alone?" Young or old we all know what it's like to want to be understood and feel welcomed in a new place.

We may not be able to completely remove our kids' anxiety about beginning something new, but we can assure them of two things: our love for them and God's constant care.

Small comfort? Maybe.  But if you have the space for it and can carve out the time, try a night-before or morning-of blessing and litany of beginning.  You can make up your own words that make sense for your context and the age of your child, but the scripts that we repeat in our heads are powerful, no matter our age, so give your kid the script.  It might go something like this:

Tomorrow you are beginning a new thing. I'm proud of you and I want to bless you and send you on your way with words to help you when you feel nervous or uncertain. When you need to remind yourself of your own strength.  I want to to say these words each time:  God is with me. My family loves me. I can do hard things!

When you step into your new classroom for the first time...
When you're discovering all your new routines and schedules...
When you're wondering who will be your partner, who will sit with you at lunch, who to be your friend...
When you feel challenged by the school work...
When you feel overwhelmed or anxious...
When you miss the ones you love...
God is with you.  Your family loves you. You are strong and you can do hard things!

An optional addition to such a blessing which has been helpful in my experience is a meaningful tangible reminder of the care, love and safety for your child to carry with them.  A piece of jewelry or small item that fits in a pocket quietly says, "God is with me, my people love me, I am not alone."

If you have a child for whom newness is exciting, an adventure to be embraced, rejoice! Or even if this new beginning is just another day, I think it's still worthwhile to bless these new steps with courage and joy and determination.  To thank God for the the Spirit within them, delighting in the opportunities that await.  A litany for such a child can be a celebration, in the spirit of the end of Woodson's book:

This is the day you begin
to find the places inside
your laughter and your lunches,
your books, your travel and your stories,

where every new friend has something
a little like you - and something else
so fabulously not quite like you
at all.

Peace to you in the days of preparation and beginnings.

Breaking Our Kids' Hearts

"We need to break our kids hearts," said Jennifer Harvey in her talk at The Well last Thursday evening. "There's nothing innocent about white innocence." In her follow up to her book Dear White Christians, called Raising White Kids: Bringing up Children in a Racially Unjust America Harvey is inspired by the questions and issues arising from her own parenting, and her desire to again address her own community: white folks. Most of the folks in our congregation who are parent are raising or have raised white kids. And all of us - parents of white kids or not - have ample opportunities to grow in the ways that we engage our families and communities around issues of awareness, bias, privilege and racial justice.

What Dr. Harvey means when she says we must break our children's hearts is that it is only our privilege that allows us to protect our kids from knowing personally the bias and racism experienced daily by people of color. We want our children to be people who are advocates for justice and equality and teaching them that everyone is the same - teaching 'colorblindness' - ignores the fact that people are in fact different. And those differences mean that those who are people of color have been and continue to be treated differently. The only way that our children can fight for their fellow humans, the only way they can be brave together through the awkward and the uncertain is to know the pain and tragedy of what happens because of implicit and explicit racism and then rebuild their understanding that we and they have agency to respond in just ways.

Harvey's book speaks from her own experience as a parent of white children and aunt to two black children. She starts from the beginning (there's literally a chapter called "Where do I start?") for folks who are at a loss for how to initiate conversations in their families. And she acknowledges that it can be fraught and confusing and awkward but presses us to dive in anyway. When we don't find ways of addressing race, children will notice and make their own conclusions about our opinions.

As a parent of a tween, I have my radar attuned to middle grade fiction that addresses issues of race, since I always like books to do a little of the work for me and give me a reference point in conversation. I have two suggestions that I think will also be meaningful reading for adults:

Feathers by Jacqueline Woodson (and any book by her - she writes picture books for younger children as well) deals with race, faith, disability and belonging through the eyes of a sixth grade girl. Franny is a black girl living in an all-black neighborhood but begins to ask questions about how black and white folks should interact when a white kid who looks a lot like Jesus shows up in her classroom. We read this book together and then we used the questions at the back of the book as a starting place for conversation about our own experience and attitudes.

Ghost Boys by Jewell Parker Rhodes (and anything by her too). I haven't read this one yet but heard the author on The Longest Shortest Time podcast and then went to see her the next day when I discovered that she was speaking and reading at the Seward Park Third Place Books. Her book starts with the shooting of Jerome, a 12-year-old black boy, by a white police officer. It tells the rest of the story through his eyes as a ghost - encountering both the grief of his family and community, a host of other ghosts, including Emmett Till, and the one child who can still see and hear him: Sarah, the daughter of the officer who shot him.

Both of these books are heartbreaking in just the way that Harvey suggests. They will break open our own and our kids' hearts in ways that we can put them back together again full of hope. Much of the hope in the books is lodged in the young protagonists and their peers. I was so impressed by Jewell Parker Rhodes in how full of joy she was in spite of the heavy content of her work. She sparkled with delight in the young people in her audience and urged all of us, young and old alike to tell stories like Jerome's and to talk to each other about how to build hope and justice in our communities. We can start in our own families.

When God Made You

It's hard to find children's picture books about God that don't make me cringe a little or change the language to re-interpret the theology while I'm reading or have pictures that reflect a diversity of people and culture. But recently I found Here Wee Read (@hereweeread) on Instagram. 

The reason I started following Here Wee Read, (which is also a website) is that Charnaie, the creator of the site and all its social media is an 'expert in diversity' and makes excellent suggestions of books that feature people of color or tell stories of black and brown leaders and innovators, and that help to introduce conversations about race even with very young children. I was delighted to learn that her suggestions sometimes also include books about God and/or the Bible.

When God Made You and When God Made Light are now regular reading at bedtime in our household. The illustrations are absolutely delightful and engaging; we pause at almost every page to talk about what's in the pictures because there are new things to notice, or we notice the same beautiful thing again and again. (It can take a long time to read these books because of this.) The lyrical, silly-serious lilt of the writing is fun to read and, as the kids say, gives me all the feels. Plus - and these are actually big ones for me - I never have to edit-as-I-go because the pronouns for God are Capital H He's, language for humanity is exclusive, or there's questionable theology, which I have to do even with the wonderful Children of God Storybook Bible by Desmond Tutu.

The illustrations are such a celebration of the beauty, creativity and personhood of little black girls that I was surprised to learn in an interview with the author, Mathew Paul Turner, that both the author and the illustrator are white dudes. (Read the interview here with Traci Smith, author of Faithful Families). In the interview Turner talks about his own frustration with reading to his kids. wanting to acknowledge the light of God's creativity and love within his own children and not finding anything that quite fit what he was looking for. So he wrote it himself.

There are some lines I can barely read without busting out crying with the beauty of imagining my child and all our children and each of us in all our belovedness.

"You, you, when God dreams about you,
God dreams aout all that in you will be true.
That you - God's you - will be hopeful and kind,
a giver who live with all heart, soul and mind...
A mover, a shaker, a lover of nature.
A builder of bridges, you the peacemaker...
'Cause when God made you, all of heaven was beaming.
Over YOU, God was smiling and already dreaming."

Black Lives Matter At School

"NOW THEREFORE, BE IT
RESOLVED, that the Seattle School Board declares that the lives of our black students matter, as well as the lives of all of our students of color; and therefore be it further
RESOLVED, that the School Board encourages participation district-wide in the Black Lives Matter At School Week from February 5-9, 2018 through discussions in classrooms and in homes."

I feel grateful to live in a city whose school board encourages its educators to embrace an active role in naming injustice and promoting equality.  One of the reasons I love my neighborhood school in Beacon Hill is that I know that in addition to being majority minority, it's intentional about having a global agenda, identifying inequity, teaching students to think critically and celebrating black lives and the people of color who have been shaped history and culture.

That said, having a child in a school like mine let's me off the hook a little.  Or rather, I let myself off the hook by leaning on the great stuff the school is already doing and not getting too involved in the day to day.  I pay the PTA membership and I show up to the occasional event, but I've never gone to a meeting.  I'm busy with all the things and its hard to think about adding one more.  I know I'm not alone.

Then I read this article on the SURJ (Showing Up for Racial Justice) website: "Act In" Where You Already Are.  The author talks about finding allies in the activities and organizations in which we're already a part and advocating and agitating for racial justice there.  "Racism is everywhere," she says, "We don't have to go to a special meeting to take action for racial justice. As families, we engage with a lot of people outside of “activist world” and can bring them into racial justice work through the mutual interest of raising kids in a world without racism."

So I don't go to PTA meetings.  But I do have several other involvements (including this church gig with all of you) where I can think about putting anti-racism energy.  Maybe you do go to the PTA meetings (I know some of you definitely do) and you can find allies in inviting a guest speaker or panel to talk about raising race-conscious kids.  Maybe you go to a library storytime that would entertain the question of using more people of color in books (and drawing attention to it).  Maybe you're in a book club that would choose to read books by people of color.  Maybe you work in a workplace that would be willing to support systemic anti-racism training like this one. I don't know...but you might!  And there are some concrete suggestions in the article and all over the SURJ website.

Last week a flyer got sent home in the backpacks of the kids in our school saying a little bit about what was going to be happening in school this week and suggestions for follow up.  But I know that using the curriculum is voluntary.  So I hope you're able to find way to advocate for justice in your communities and with your kids.

And a couple more resources to end on:
If you are interested in a workshop on how to be a better ally, check on the White Ally Toolkit this Saturday hosted by Valley and Mountain, The Well, and Kids4Peace Seattle.
Second, I've always got you with the book suggestions.  I just discovered a new Instagramer to follow: @hereweeread is a 'diversity and inclusion expert' and her Instagram features books (mostly for kids but some for adults as well) that celebrate black lives and accomplishments. Below are a couple of screen caps from her feed...so good!

 

Darkness in Light of MLK

After my rambling thoughts on how darkness isn't all bad last week, there's this quote by Dr. King:

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness.
Only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate.
Only love can do that."
       -Dr. Martin Luther King Junior

One of my very favorite stories about a child learning about Martin Luther King is in an old episode of this American Life called 'Kid Logic'.  It's one of those mouths-of-babes stories where a child somehow cuts to the center of the message of love and justice that King preached as a follower of Jesus.  And the devastating consequences of that message of love.  I found the episode here. The story starts at  minute 13:10 in Act One of the show but the whole episode is a really great piece of radio storytelling.  Be warned though, if you're anything like me you will cry your eyes out EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. you listen to it.

I don't have any other deep thoughts to offer on the subject of kids and race this year.  I have often suggested books to read to kids on racial justice and building equality.  This time around I'll let the experts make the suggestions.  The Seattle Public Library has a couple of excellent lists for children across the age spectrum: "Race and Social Justice Books for kids K-5" I think is has a few books that look suitable for younger ones as well. "Reading and Talking to Kids about Race" also has both picture books and chapter books, as does "Reading Race: Fiction for Kids."  There's in the content of their lists but it seems like a great place to start to me and to test out books that you might want to have on your own shelves.
It's a good quote for a chaotic time. 

On our bookshelves at home I try to be intentional with the picture books we purchase that the illustrations feature a diversity of characters, whether or not the stories are explicitly about race.  One of the picture books favorites for the toddler right now (one of the few that's not about animals) is Up Up Down by Canadian author Robert Munsch (maybe most famous for The Paperbag Princess  and Love you Forever) about a little girl obsessed with climbing.  Because Munsch uses real kids in almost every one of his books (including his own kids, who are black) a lot of his books feature kids of color.  We also like Something Good, which is about Munsch and his daughter.

Whatever you do this weekend, may you find rest and connection in family and community (recognizing that sometimes 'rest' and 'connection' are mutually exclusive).

Movie Review: Home

Synopsys: 

A race of aliens called the Boov invade earth, sequestering all humans to Australia.  One girl is left behind and she meets an awkward outcast of the Boov.  Together they find that they can help each other and the planet in her quest to find her mother and his quest to find acceptance.

Pros:

First, I saw some interesting parallels to current conversations about race, about occupation and resettlement and with the refugee crisis and welcome of Muslim immigrants.  The Boov are motivated by fear.  They are fleeing from another alien who for a reason they don’t know is chasing them.  They seek refuge on other planets where they believe they can’t be found and terrorized.  The problem is that the way they do it is by rounding up all the people who currently live on the planet and settling them in one place.  With no attempt to build relationships with humans, both humans and Boov are fearful of each other, which means anger on the part of the humans and further (in this case humorous) security measures by the Boov. 

These dynamics are played out between the two central characters, 13-year-old Tip and a Boov named ‘Oh’.  (He got his name because people always groan when he shows up).  She’s both fearful and really angry that her mother has been taken away from her. And even though he’s not well liked by his fellow Boov because he’s sort of bungling and awkward, Oh is convinced that their mission is right and that his leaders know what’s best for them and for the humans.  As Tip and Oh get to know each other they realize not only that they don’t have to fear each other but that they can be friends.  As an immigrant from Barbados, Tip can finds she can relate to Oh; both of them are outsiders.  Finally understanding each other is what allows resolution as they bring this understanding to their two worlds. 

Home may be good way into talking about current issues when questions about refugees or otherness of all kinds comes up.  For example, “You know how in Home the aliens put all the people in Australia.  People have done that kind of thing to other people because we thought it was better for them.”  Or “You know how in Home the Boov were really scared, and that made them do things that we unkind to other people because they wanted to be safe?  Sometimes people act that way too.”

A second major pro in my mind is that there isn’t a lot of white skin in this movie.  The main character is a brown girl and the Oh and the Boov are an adorable shade of purple, which changes according to their emotions.  In fact people (and aliens) of color are the only characters with any dialogue.  And when does that ever happen in a movie that’s intended for a general audience and not specifically about a race-related theme??

Finally, no one is killed or has to die for there to be resolution.

Cons:

Well, the acting is mediocre and if you don’t like Rihanna or her music, this movie isn’t for you.  I was a little surprised to find that Tip, who is acted by the Rihanna was better than I thought she might be.  But it’s definitely a marketing vehicle for her music, which is all over them place as a soundtrack.  I was not really impressed by Jim Parsons as Oh.  In part it was the awkward, slight yoda-esque alien speak.  And in part, maybe he’s just a particular taste.  I was a little annoyed.

I was also kind of weirded out that the central character is a thirteen-year-old girl, but she’s acted by a woman and comes across as way older.  When you first meet her, she’s speeding off in a little red car and I assumed that she was a young adult for the first twenty minutes or so until she explicitly talks about being in 7^th grade and girls being mean.

Overall:

The cons that I saw in this movie didn’t bother the kid I watched it with.  In fact, she thought it was hilarious and is always partial to movies with girls at their center.   The slapstick of Oh’s uncontrollable tentacles, the a car powered by slushees, the misunderstanding that results from a character being unfamiliar with earth and encountering things for the first time are kid-pleasers. (Drinking motor oil instead of juice? So funny).  Even preschoolers who wouldn’t get any of the message-y stuff will like the bubblegum colors and humor.  And older kids might actually learn a little something.  It’s probably not one that will be on heavy rotation for me, but I recommend it.

Talking to Kids About Tradegy, Talking to Kids about Race...Again

We know that incidents of violence against our brown and black brothers and sisters are not novel events.  Nor, sadly, are acts of violence in which one person takes multiple people lives.  But as media and the public become more alert to racial motivated violence, we begin to more and more see the evidence of it as we scroll through our social media, listen to the radio or watch TV news.  Our kids are there, in the background or the foreground, paying attention.  When we ourselves feel helpless and defeated (or is that just me?) what can we offer our children? 

There are a couple of helpful places to go to help children process tragedy and violence they see and hear in the media, including PBS kids.  We often go there for kid-safe video content but they have other helpful resources as well.  The article linked above, which was written after the Connecticut school shooting is helpful in many of its points, including modeling assurance, taking action and paying special attention to children.  But its first point speaks to assuring children that incidents of violence are isolated and rare and based on my own experience I would nuance this point when talking with children. 

Our home was victim to a random drive-by shooting in May.  We literally dug a bullet out of the wall of our front porch, several inches from the window to the kids’ room. It’s pretty hard in that situation to say, “You’re safe.”  Although we did say, “You’re safe now.”  Some members of our congregation were at or near SPU a year ago when that community experienced a shooting on their campus and are feeling deep resonance with the members of Emmanel AME.  I think we are all becoming aware that we can’t tell children, “This will never happen to you.”  We most assuredly can tell children, God is always with you and God’s love will never leave you.  We can also assure them of the love of their family and community.  And yes, while incidents like this do occur with seeming frequency, they are indeed very rare and very unlikely to happen to them.  Carolyn Brown does a nice job of naming some important points in talking with kids about tragedy from a faith perspective at Worshiping with Children.

My go-to site for thematic literature, Storypath, has some specific recommendations following the Charleston shooting.  I always find excellent recommendations there for books that help parents talk about scripture and about hard issues in age-appropriate ways.  One of my favorite book suggestions from that site is a setting of Psalm 23 by author Tim Ladwig (book image left).  The pictures in the book follow a child in her joys and fears, through her urban neighborhood to the words of the well-known Psalm.  I also found an absolutely lovely video that has the images from this book set to music.

Story path also has a bibliography of resources to help talk with children about racial inequity and white privilege.   This may be the most important part of the story to talk to about with children.  Color blindness is not a thing and we need to educate ourselves about how people are treated differently based on pigmentation.  I blogged about this during the Ferguson protests at pastoramy.blogspot.com.  There are also links in those posts to resources on how to talk with kids about race.

It is heart wrenching to keep hearing of people whose lives are taken or whose bodies are battered because of skin color or ethnicity.  May we who are people of privilege have the wisdom to know how to use it and to hold that privilege with open hands and hearts.

A (Mostly) White Congregation and Conversations about Race

We are a (mostly) white congregation.  Individually and as a group we have for the most part been insulated from experiences of discrimination, violence or even the ‘micro-aggressions’ which face people of color face regularly.  I’m encouraged that we are trying to raise our awareness of this in a variety of ways, including our recent worship series on the Doctrine of Discovery and how the last 500 years in its wake have led Europeans and their descendants to treat all non-white persons and the lands on which they’ve lived as individuals and spaces to be either colonized, subjugated or ‘civilized’ by any means necessary.  Although the Doctrine of Discovery is no longer something the majority of the population knows about, its impact continues to be lived and experienced both by people of color and by white folks.

The violence against African Americans by police in high profile events recently and the subsequent vigils, protests and campaigns for justice are a result of the last half millennia of this subjugation and internalized understanding of who we are in relation to each other.  I am left wondering about a) how to talk about these events, about this injustice with my child and b)how to respond and enact a lived justice that I believe I’m called to.

During the Loss of Turtle Island exercise, I experienced the visceral grief of my child when she learned about the way white settler Christian soldiers knowingly and systematically gave small pox blankets to indigenous people in order to infect (and kill) them.  We have taught our children that God loves everyone and that Jesus came to show God’s love to the whole world.  It is easy to believe this when your family looks like mine does - white, hetero-parented, middle class, educated - and our experience is not one of discrimination.

When confronted by the horrible injustice of small pox blankets, or of white police officers who are seemingly free to do violence to black people, the reality of the world collides with the reality of God’s world, that is the kin-dom which we are trying to teach our children is here and which we are a part of.  There is a collision and somehow at the same time a disconnect with what we – and God – long for and what is.

A couple weeks ago I shared an article by Peggy McIntosh about the ‘invisible backpack’ of white privilege.  The invisible backpack is all the ways that I don’t even realize that I benefit from systems that prefer light over dark skin, from knowing that I’ll be able to find books with characters that reflect me to not having to question whether the non-response to my resume was because of an ‘ethnic’ name.  Because of my own hope live in a community that is not all just like me, our family made a choice to live in a diverse neighborhood and enroll in a school that is highly diverse.  Our school is intentional about teaching respect for a multiplicity of cultures, focuses on peace heroes as a part of its yearly curriculum and approaches history from a variety of perspectives.  Right now a song about Rosa Parks and the bus boycott is being sung at my house and I am amazed and grateful.

I am also very aware of Peggy McIntosh’s point that even in this diverse school, I can count on most of my child’s teachers – even those who are teaching immersion Spanish – to looking like her.  I wonder what it’s like for a native Spanish speaking family from Mexico or El Salvador to have their child taught in Spanish by a blond, blue-eyed American.  In a way that her peers are not, my daughter can be blithely unaware of her color and even of theirs.  It takes me actively engaging the question of how I look different than many of my neighbors and may be treated differently because of it to raise that kind of awareness. 

That’s where I’m starting for now.  I’m not going out of my way to start conversations about Ferguson or about death, but sometimes I do encourage noticing.  When we’re reading a book about Ruby Bridges, I ask, what did you learn about Ruby?  Why do you think those people were so angry?  And when I’m asked questions about how I feel and why I try to be honest.  Here’s an approximation of a conversation that happened at my house last week.

“Mama, why were you crying at church this morning?” 

“Well, I was sad and frustrated.  In summer a young man who was black was shot by a police officer who was white and we found out this week that it doesn’t seem like there are going to be any consequences for the police officer.”

“Did he die?”

“Yes, he was shot and he died.”

“That’s not fair.  We’re not supposed to use guns.  He shouldn’t have done that.”

“You’re right.  It’s really not fair.  It’s also not fair that people who have white skin like us get treated different – better – than people who have brown skin like the person who was killed.  And that’s why I’m so sad and frustrated.”

We have often talked about guns in our family as not being okay.  We stress that Jesus wants us to be peace makers.  Why do the police have guns and but other people aren’t allowed to?  Not a question I can answer to my own satisfaction.

                                                                                                                                  

I am still sad and frustrated.  But I’m also determined to continue to re-examine my own attitudes, to listen to the experiences of people of color, and for the most part to keep my own mouth shut when in the context of people are sharing their experiences and to encourage other white people to do the same.  It’s not my experience that the world needs to hear.  For those of you in our congregation who identify as people of color, I am grateful for you and that you continue to walk with this congregation. I think a lot of what I can do is about acknowledging the power and privilege that I have and letting those who are giving voice to experience of discrimination or violence speak and, if I can, amplifying their voices.  That’s why I’ll be wearing black in worship this week at the invitation of Christian leaders and congregations of color to be in solidarity with the message, "Black lives matter."

I trust in the God, in whose image we are all made.  I trust that God is walking with the pray-ers and protesters and who is grieving with those who grieve.  I trust that God’s dream is for a kin-dom in which we are not blind to color but that we see it and value it.  When we are wearing black to proclaim that black lives matter, may we more and more internalize what we proclaim, that God’s dream may be realized.

After Ferguson: Talking to our Kids about Privilege

If you are on Facebook, I’m sure that your feed yesterday and today has been full of #ferguson.  If yours is like mine it is with disappointment, rage and disgust as well as prayer, cries for justice and ideas about action.  Within myself I feel those things and more.  Even as we finish a worship series that highlights our privilege with relation to the first peoples of the nation, we hear news that highlights our white privilege with relation to our brown and black neighbors in our nation.  I weep.  I mourn.  I wonder, ‘How long, O Lord?’

As I think about what else I might offer of my own thoughts on this, I’d like to pass along a couple resources I found helpful in thinking about my own privilege, which may help others in talking to children (or adults) about ways that those of us who are pale or pink benefit from our pigmentation without even thinking about it.  There’s plenty out there on the internet for you to find, but I found a good starting place for concrete examples to be Peggy McIntosh’s 1988 work on the ‘Invisible Backpack’ of white privilege.  Although the article was written almost 25 years ago, her list of ways that white privilege is experienced in ways small and large is a helpful starting place for noticing for ourselves and with our children when we unthinkingly benefit by not even having to think about how we move about in the world. 

This week I was particularly struck that “I do not have to educate my children to be aware of systemic racism for their own daily physical protection.”  And yet many do, including some of our friends, neighbors and the brothers and sisters in Christ who worship with us.  Inviting our children and opening our own eyes to notice is a first step to recognizing our experience – whether it’s the realization that the Bandaid I pull from the box will most likely match my skin or knowing that I will not have to look far to find children’s books which have characters who look pretty much like me and my children. 

For a plethora of resources on teaching children about race, privilege and Ferguson, The Atlantic put together a long list of articles, videos, books for children and adults, poetry, even ‘educational hashtags’.  And The Root has a short but helpful set of ‘Do’s and Don’t’s’ for teaching and talking about Ferguson with children and youth.

As we begin this season on Advent, may we do so with confession, action and hope.  May we challenge the Thanksgiving and Christmas narratives that make pale faces the center of the story.  May the many-hued face God shine on us and be gracious to us and may the presence of God give us peace as we despair, as we rage, as we pray, as we act.