There is Hope: Look Into Their Faces

The other day I had an intense conversation with a person that I'm pretty close to. 

He is, in fact, a family member. He had had several days and nights, apparently, of frustration, fear, perhaps, and anger that all of this would be for naught. His intensity says it all for me. This is important, people are dying, some care and some don't, and he wants to know that all of this suffering will make a difference.

We talked about Viet Nam and those protests, the fact that it was young people who were marching and protesting and shouting down politicians. In my opinion, this got the attention of the leaders in the US and around the world.  

I also encouraged him to look at the photos, the videos, and the broadcasts. Lay aside the looting and robbing and all, because, in my opinion, those are opportunists taking advantage of the situation. Though they may have legitimate unexpressed hurt, anger, and rage at the machinations of the day and of the long history of this country, still, violence is not the way to go.

If he looks at the photos and all, he'll see a lot of young people, young men and women and even children, and all races, Black, white, Latino, Asian, and on and on. He'll also notice that these people show up daily for lengthy periods of time.   There are other demographics as well, in college, college graduates, work a day folks, and on and on. He'll see a lot of older folks, middle age and older, but especially notice the young men and women and children. These are not fly by night show up for a photo op like some are prone to do these days. They look like they are here to stay.

This is a wide-spread movement. I, personally am inspired by the young and old white people who are carrying signs like "Black Lives Matter." I am grieved when I read signs that say, "Am I Next?"

There are different ways of fighting for justice. Yes, march, protest, make signs, and all. Those things are desperately needed and will stay at the forefront of our consciousness. Speak up, write up, talk up these issues.

That's where I come in.

Several years ago, my extended family was sitting in a restaurant having lunch. One of my grandsons asked me, "Poppie, why are you working with Black farmers?" That question stunned me. He was only six or seven or so and was asking a profound question. So, I tried to explain it in words that he could grasp. How do you, though, talk about years of discrimination, land loss, loss of health, livelihood and all? I did the best that I could. My explanation was not very long. Then, he pulled out a piece of paper and wrote a short little poem addressed to Black farmers. He had gotten the drift. And he still gets the drift. Although he is now a grown man, he knows why his Poppie and his Mema do what they do. He registers excitement when he hears of our latest ventures. Yes, he gets it.

And that work goes on and on and on. The wheels of justice grind slowly, all too slowly, but still we work.

Then, this morning came another heart-moving moment. Somebody who is a friend of the family had taken photos of the march the other day in the city where we live. Four high school young women organized a march that numbered around 400 or more. But, there in the photo is a little white kid, walking alongside his dad who is pushing a stroller with the younger children. The little white kid has an intensity on his face. He must be chanting, I suspect. His sign? BLACK LIVES MATTER. Yes, that little guy is now growing up in a world in which he can know that Black Lives Matter.

So, I am deeply moved by this unique set of events. A conversation with a young man whom I hold dear, the remembrance of a conversation with a grandson several years ago in the restaurant, and, now, the photo of a little white kid holding the sign. That kid is one of my grandsons.

Yes, there is hope. Look into his face.  Look into their faces.

Yes, there is hope.

On A Frigid Day in Covington, Kentucky

There is no doubt that you and I both have been caught up in the drama in Washington, DC of late. No, not with the president* or the government shut down, but with the one with the Native American gentleman beating his drum and singing while the young man with the MAGA hat stood amidst his own peers, many of whom were also wearing the red hat. We all know how these things roll.  A perspective is built, images are shown, videos are shown, and the truth, if we can ever completely attain it, rolls before us day after day after day.

For those of us who do systems oriented therapy, we know about this thing called "punctuation," or exactly how an interaction begins, what is next prompted, and what is next prompted, and so on. We punctuate relational matters in a similar way that we punctuate sentences. 

There was a lot of craziness going on that day with adults and kids. 

A few days later, a group of folks protested in Covington, Kentucky, and a friend of mine was there to chronicle it via her photography. I also asked her to describe what she saw and experienced. Here are the words and photography of Heather Hicks. I am grateful for her and her heart, and for her willingness to tell that story here. 

It was frigid but that didn’t stop a group of us from driving to Covington, Kentucky to stand along side Native Americans who were deeply hurt and alarmed by the way one of their honored elders, Nathan Phillips, was disgracefully treated and mocked recently in DC.  Some drove from States away.  It was a protest, one ordered by Native American leaders to be peaceful.  The protest was an outcry to end racism. It was also to demand that Covington Catholic change some things in their school culture to foster young men who would value diversity and have a better knowledge of Native American culture and history.  They required that Covington Catholic offer classes that teach what racism is and how to respect and value diversity.

The ratio of news reporters and journalists just about matched the number of peaceful protesters.  Several Native American speakers spoke, sharing their inspiring thoughts and concerns with us.  They spoke of wanting to build bridges across the cultural and economic divides.  One man shared how they were saddened that Covington Catholic felt the need to close the school on the day of protest for fear of violence.  He said if you knew and understood Native American people you would know that we are a people of peace.

While we were listening to the speakers, cars would drive by blaring their horns to disrupt the speakers. One car stopped in front of the crowd and kept blaring their horn until a police officer finally made them move on.  A van drove by with “Fake News Enemy of the People” written on it.  Another car drove by and someone shouted from it, “That school breeds white supremacists!”  There were ANTIFA members present. They were not there to create chaos but for protection.  They even brought a medic with them.  I wonder if they were peaceful to respect the wishes of the Native American leaders?

The history of the sacred peace prayer that elder Philips sang was shared with us.  How for hundreds of years Native American leaders have been inserting themselves between waring groups with the singing of the prayer to promote peace and to deescalate volatile situations. They led the song as we began our short trek to the Catholic basilica of Covington to call for a meeting with the Covington Catholic Diocese.  The Native American leaders wanted this to be the first of many meetings to talk about building peace and respect for each other.  As we came around the corner we saw a man standing at the top of the steps, in front of the basilica doors praying with a rosary in his hands.  The Native American leaders stopped at the bottom of the steps and finished the prayer song.  LaFramboise, one of the leaders asked the man if he could pray with and for him.  The man was reluctant at first but then he agreed.  LaFramboise held his hand as he prayed for him.  I wish I had recorded that prayer.  It was a very touching moment. A non Native American woman next to me had tears rolling down her cheeks.  I gave her a hug and then a journalist asked her what caused her tears.  I wish I heard what she responded. I do know that I saw her give a hug to almost every Native American there. 

           

A few school boys from Covington Catholic showed up but they stayed across the street from us.  They were quiet but wanted their presence to be known.  A few counter protesters stood with them, some of them dressed like the stereotypical alt-right people. 

A man, who was in support of the Covington boys came to talk to some of we protesters, trying to stir up some trouble.  I was impressed with how some of the ANTIFA members handled him.  Instead of getting all defensive with him like I wanted to, they had a conversation with him and respectfully shared how entrenched racism is in our country and how even they personally have to work on changing their own racist views.  At one point the man trying to stir up trouble said, “You know, we just need to all get along.  We would all get a long so much better if you didn’t use the words racist or racism.”

Sadly, the Covington Catholic Diocese refused to meet with the Native American leaders.  The leaders promised to keep coming back to the Diocese until the they were able to have the talks they longed for. ---- Heather Malaika Hicks

Blessed Are You, Or Maybe Cursed, Revised

Blessed are you who protest against injustice

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on earth, great is your mistreatment.

Blessed are you who march for causes that are righteous

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth, great is the derision with which people treat you.

Blessed are you, Black farmers of this land, who till the soil you love

For great is your reward in heaven

But here on the earth, great is the time that you will wait for your loans. 

Blessed are you, Black farmers of this land, whose blood is on the land

For great is your reward in heaven

But here on the earth, great is your suffering as you wait for justice. 

Blessed are you, whose skin is dark, who labor sun up to sun down

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth, great is your grief as your friends pass to the ancestors.

Blessed are you who resist programs and policies that malign the least of these

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth, you will be viewed as anti-American.

Blessed are you who kneel on behalf of people who are treated with brutality

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth, you will be maligned by folks who think it is about the flag.

Blessed are you who write or speak up for the good of the poor

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth you will be viewed as ungrateful for the opportunities you have had.

Blessed are you who do not settle for laws that enhance the rich and marginalize the poor

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth, the privileged will view you askance.

Blessed are you who stir the pot for things that are righteous and good and true

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth expect pushback after pushback after pushback.

Blessed are you who dream of a better world

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth you know sleepless nights.

Blessed are you who recognize that privilege has been yours to wear

For great is your reward in heaven,

But here on the earth anticipate ridicule for your beliefs and ideas.

Blessed are you who recognize that the world can be a better place,

Who do not wait for heaven to bring about change,

Who protest, march, resist, kneel, write, speak up, stir the pot, recognize, and other things

Because you could not live with yourself otherwise.

No, you could not live with yourself otherwise.

And in doing so, you find other advocates and friends, and you all make the world a better place.

Evil Exists Across Our Land

In the early morning hours I spent some time in Stride Toward Freedom, Martin Luther King Jr.'s story of the Montgomery bus boycott. I was moved by one of his sentences:  "He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetrate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it."  These words prompted the following words.

In the early morning hours

Not long till the break of day
There are those who are working
Just to torment and have their way.

Politics of the powerful

It sure looks like that to me
I hope I am wrong
It is before us now we see.

In the early morning hours

While people’s hearts are at rest
Some are already plotting harm
Wounding the souls of the best.

Yes, evil exists across our land

It hides in every shadow
It looks and lurches at any moment
Until it finds its prey, no matter.

Destruction is on their lips

Chaos is in their renown
The intent is very clear
To turn things upside down.

In the hearts and in the decisions

Of the one and the many
Spirits of people are at risk
Of malevolence there is plenty.

Our institutions have deserted us

Toward whiteness and maleness
They cast aside all others
Lord, bring back your holiness.

The people in power are jealous

For their positions and fame
While the poor and the homeless
Live with emotional pain.

Racial epithets are hurled through the crowd

The words pierce the soul
Of those who are young
And those who are old.

Racism sexism classism

Just a few
Bigotry and xenophobia
Around things people spew.
 
Policies are made by the powerful
Behind doors that are closed
Things get re-arranged
But evil gets exposed.

We gather up people and send them away

Young and old, bad and the good
Just because their names
Are not understood.

That black woman is in harm’s way

That Muslim teen is at risk
She who is transgendered
They all are summarily dismissed.
 
Acceptance of evil when we see it
Makes out of all of us
Perpetrators and cooperators
Until our bodies are dust.

Causes are righteous

They bring out our best
We will not live at peace
Until the people sleep and rest.

 

The Best Of Us Here

I cannot unhear

I cannot unsee

I cannot unfeel

I cannot un-anything.

 

You see

It's not in me 

To ignore 

Their pleas, their cries, their sighs.

 

You see

It's not in me

To ignore

Their hopes, their dreams, their cries.

 

And we see

It's not in us

To ignore

Their hopes, their dreams, their sighs.

And we see
It's not in us
To ignore
Their hopes, their dreams, their cries.

 

So, with all of my being

And with all of our being

 

We will hear

We will see

We will feel

We will everything good.

 

The best of you

The best of me

The best of them 

The best of all of us here.

Protest, Dissent, and the Gospel, Part Two

Protests take many shapes and sizes and names.  Some are loud with hundreds or even thousands of people.  Some are community driven. Some are a solo walk.  Some take the form of refusing to buy products from various companies, or to shop in certain stores. All are principle-driven, and those principles are as varied as are our people.

As for me, I want there to be principles and an over-arching principle.  I want to be able to look in the Creator’s face and explain why I will protest some things and not others. Because of that, I lean toward a social justice orientation. That’s what the prophets did when they shouted from the mountaintops about the rich getting richer at the expense of the poor and a variety of other things. 

Along with saving us from ourselves, Jesus was the Divine Provocateur.  He could not bring His message to the world without upsetting the social and religious order of things. Sometimes he did his provoking in quieter surroundings like speaking to the woman at the well who was most likely marginalized by the other women in the community given her serial marriage situation.  Sometimes he spoke in more public settings like with the woman caught in the act of adultery when she was dragged before him but not the man with whom she was having sexual intercourse. Then there is the most public scene when he cleared the Temple of those who were polluting it.  The story is told twice, once in John 2 and the other in Mark 11. Did it happen twice or just get written into the text at two places? Either way, he made a serious public scene, driving the buyers and the sellers out, turning over the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves, and he “would not allow anyone to carry merchandise through the temple courts” (Mark 11: 16).  The disturbance was so profound that the chief priests and the teachers of the law heard about it and began to look for ways to take Him out.  They realized that the crowd was mesmerized by Him and they had to go slow.

Look at where it got Him. For some of us, our protests lead to “unintended consequences.” For Jesus of Nazareth, He knew where it was leading. He told His followers several times until it finally sunk it, afterwards. I do not pay with my life when I voice opinions and beliefs. I may lose friends or wind up being avoided in certain settings, but I do not die for what I believe. Maybe I do not protest loudly enough.

At my house, we are not terribly rowdy.  We generally are mindful of our speech, tone, and words. We have friends and family who are much more vitriolic than we are. We do, however, care very deeply about things.  We protest in our own ways with our votes and our words. At the most basic of levels, we desire for our attitudes about protest and things we protest to matter to the one who protested at the highest levels and paid the most significant cost.

Protest, march, speak up, hold your coins, and other matters and let your decisions voice your principles. That way, we honor those who have come before us and we remain true to our convictions. That is the American way. That is the human way.