Our racial justice journey
“The ideology that whiteness is supreme, better, best, permeates the air we breathe - in our schools, in our offices and in our country’s common life. White supremacy is a tradition that must be named and a religion that must be renounced.”
~ Austin Channing Brown, I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness
I was recently asked to be one of the guest facilitators for a clergy cohort conversation about how we as white pastors lead our congregations deeper into the work of racial justice. I accepted the invitation, but with lots of reluctance. I was relieved to find out I would not be looked to as an expert, but instead would get to tell our church’s story. We’d be a case study and that is way more up our alley than pretending we have this figured out.
As I prepared to tell our story, I recalled all of the ways The Well has sought to be present in the work of racial justice. We have read many books together - everything from Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy to Austin Channing Brown’s I’m Still Here to White Fragility by Robin DiAngelo. We have hosted community discussions about issues pertaining to racial justice. We’ve brought diverse groups of people together to talk about racism and a some of us have marched, protested and shown up at city hall to advocate alongside Black & Brown neighbors. We’ve built intentional relationships with Black-owned businesses and been guest rather than host to attempt equalizing power. We’ve taken the posture of learner and those who “walk alongside” more often than not and have tried to limit one-way giving. We still have so much to learn & so far to go, but we are on the journey.
I was not only asked to tell our story, but to talk about our struggles. Two came to mind.
We are still working out our white savior complex. In subtle and not so subtle ways, we still perpetuate the lie that whiteness is superior. Instead of handing the microphone to Black friends (particularly those with economic struggles) so they can speak for themselves, at times we still speak for them. Instead of cultivating authentic friendships across racial & socioeconomic boundaries, at times we still insist on relating to people like projects. The shift from charity to friendship has been a really hard one. I think we still have a ways to go in confronting our love of power and our need to be in control. I hope we’ll keep making that shift though and keep moving out of being service providers and into cultivating kinship whenever and wherever possible.
It is still too easy for us to tap in and tap out of the work. That’s the luxury and the danger of white privilege. If we aren’t impacted directly, we get comfortable doing nothing. We can get fired up in reaction to the unjust murders of Black neighbors, but then tap out when the fire dies down. We can react, weigh in or show up when we feel like it, and become forgetful that this is a marathon, not a sprint. The fight for racial justice will not be won in our lifetime, so we must ask: in what sustainable ways will we keep showing up over the long haul?
As we start a new church year, I’m so grateful for the invitation by the Ministry Collaborative to reflect on this important part of our life together. And I look forward to continuing to wrestle with where we are being invited to invest more fully and to be even more present in the work of racial justice here.
peace + love,
susan