Fires Burning

Two young black men from Minneapolis were briefly interviewed on the radio yesterday afternoon. They were at one of many peaceful protests to express grief and outrage over the killing of another black man, George Floyd. The reasonable interviewer asked them if they planned to go home and obey the curfew later on.

They both said they couldn’t go home, they had to stay because their voices had not yet been heard. They sounded excited and committed. I fully expect that they stayed in the streets last night. Their young hearts were already on fire with the terrible injustice of their lives. I hope they were not harmed or consumed by the violence that has become so visible over this past week.

In the midst of our pandemic, a black man’s death was recorded on video—a policeman kneeling on his neck as he pleaded to be allowed to breath.  Eight minutes. As he stopped moving. No respect. No mercy. No decency. If it was the first, it would be just a gruesome and brutal story. But the violence in our country has been with us since our beginnings. The shame of the systematic genocide of Native Americans and vast violence of slavery are woven into our current systems in ways that we have yet to reckon with and atone for.

Usually, for most of us white folk, the violence is hidden. We can pretend that the great slogans of our country are true—sweet land of liberty with freedom and justice for all. We can be grateful for the heroes of the civil rights movements in the 60’s—for King’s great vision of non-violent action to change the hearts and minds of America. We can say that so much progress has been made.

But the string of killings of black people over the past few years is truly horrifying. Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Freddie Gray, Philando Castile, Alton Sterling, Delrawn Small – to mention just a few. These deaths of black men that would usually be covered up by the machinery and protections of the people in power, have been made public—caught on video and displayed for us all to witness—again and again. The very police and law enforcement officers that many of us view as the protectors of peace and justice have turned out to be implicated as the enforcers of a brutal system of racism that is our national legacy and our current reality.

We are all traumatized by these images of brutality. Another man interviewed yesterday was asked what the impact on him was of this murder and the ongoing parade of public murders of young black men. He said he saw himself, his father and his sons as the man on the ground. Pinned and helpless. Dying again and again.

We must all, at some point, begin to see that it is our son too who has been killed. Our precious brother, partner, and friend. George Floyd was human like you and me. He lived a life and had dreams like me and you. He probably had grandparents who delighted in his first steps and encouraged him to find his way in a world that was often dangerous and unforgiving for boys born with skin the color of his.

Let us mourn the tragic and needless death of this precious human being. Let us mourn the violence rampant in our country that makes this just the latest of a long line of killings. Let us uncover the fires that burn in our hearts—the fires of justice—the fires of conviction. Let us vow to not turn away. Let us vow to join the ongoing struggle against violence and oppression in all its pernicious forms.

Personal Practice: Imagine you are being interviewed on the radio and you are asked: ‘How has this tragedy impacted you? How do these events touch your mind and heart?’ Give yourself permission to be touched by what you have heard and seen. It is not a time to hold it together, but rather to mourn and grieve. Allow yourself to feel what you feel and know what you know.

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