Wrestling Through Last Week: A Letter To My Friends

Dear American friends,

I'm so grateful that God has allowed me the gift of a diverse group of people I call friends. I find culture and ethnicity beautiful. I love trying new foods and learning new cultural customs. I love to travel and see similarities and differences in varying geographical locations and peoples. However, because of these diverse relationships and experiences, I feel extremely torn by where we find ourselves as a nation. I wish I could gather you all together in my living room for a talk. A talk that ends like this:

 


Since we're not at a place where we can meet in the middle just yet, I wrote each of you a letter. I pray you will take time to hear my heart and then join me in working towards the middle so we can all hug and pray for concilation in the near future. This is not the legacy or reality any of us want to leave for our children. 


To my white friends, will you please help me say that black lives do matter? #BlackLivesMatter became a hashtag and subsequently a movement because my black friends were trying to express that they didn't feel like others believed that.

They were never trying to say that other lives don't matter and it was never meant to equate to police lives don't matter. My friends just wanted to hear from us that their lives matter. And guess what? They're still waiting to hear us say it with both words and actions.

What if we told a black co-worker or neighbor how sad we felt when watching the video of a 4-year-old comforting her distraught mother after witnessing the shooting death of her father? What if we told them that it was heartbreaking to see another black life ended...without waiting for all the "facts" of the case?

The world around my brown-skinned friends is screaming that their lives don't have the same value or worth as ours. This is a voice they have heard for hundreds of years and its sting hasn't diminished with time. We may not ever understand what it's like to live in brown skin, but can we listen to their experiences and seek to learn from them? Can we do this without having to justify with "facts" or point out areas of brokenness in their culture?

 I have seen first-hand the different treatment and limited opportunities for my friends with brown skin. I know that systemic injustice is a real thing. I see that my mere birth and cultural heritage (privileges I didn't get to choose) put me in a starting place that my friends of color have to fight to reach. THIS IS WRONG. We need to affirm that non-white lives matter equally by standing with our brothers and sisters in solidarity and by using our platforms of privilege to push for change and equality.

Dr. King said, "The time is always right to do what is right." Friends, it's time to do what is right. What would happen if, instead of arguing or defending, we simply listened and wept? I believe healing would happen and dividing walls would fall. Let's build bridges for change. (**If you're feeling tempted to argue any of these points, I'd refer you to a great book by Michelle Alexander called The New Jim Crow. If you'd like to dialogue about it, I'd love the opportunity to do so AFTER you've read that book.**)

To my black friends, your brown skin and culture is beautiful and your lives DO matter. I hate to do this because I know you feel exhausted, but I need to ask you for a favor. Can you be gracious with us as we figure this out? This is not another stall tactic, but a genuine request for grace. Some of us are really trying to figure out what it looks like to stand with you and we need your help with this.

Many of my white friends have expressed wanting to speak out in your support but have held back for fear of offending or hurting you further. They are also trying to navigate what it looks like to grieve Alton Sterling and Philando Castile while also grieving the police officers who were senselessly murdered in Dallas. Many of my white friends and family just don't know what it's like to be brown. Can you help us understand? Can you help me initiate meeting in the middle and would you be willing to share your stories?

I know your voice has been silenced in the past, but your stories need to be heard. I want to help with that. Can we meet to pray together and formulate plans of action as brothers and sisters of one race with different ethnic and cultural backgrounds?

I need to address one more thing. I know some of you are ready to dismiss the way of non-violence and fight for equality and justice another way. My heart breaks as I see you posting about it on social media. Please don't go this route. I know you are tired of waiting. I am too. Let's link arms and take up non-violent measures to see change come. It's the better way. I'm grateful for what having a brown husband, children and friends has taught me and I'm doing everything I can to gather people to listen to you and stand with you. Your lives matter to the God who made you in his beautiful image and they matter to me. Please know, I weep with you and I stand with you. Change is coming.

To my friends in law enforcement, thank you for what you do. I know you feel like you're under attack and rightfully so. I want you to know that I value the work that good police officers are doing and I'm grateful to spouses and children who sacrifice so much to support their loved ones in this line of work.

You have a difficult and often thankless job. My conversations over the last year with LEO's and wives of officers have helped me see how hard all of this is for you. I know some of you want to quit because you feel unappreciated and villainized. Please hear my sincere "thank you" and my plea to continue working to keep us safe and to bring people who harm citizens and communities to justice.

We need you for society to function and we want your help. Can we work together to build bridges in our community and to get you better resources to do your jobs well? I have seen heartwarming stories of standout officers and have met at least two in our community who have gone above and beyond to care for and fight for justice for people of color (along with all citizens). I want to commend the officers who are putting themselves in harm's way to make a difference. Please don't let the protests make you want to quit. We need good officers like you. You are the key to community engagement and healing. Let's work together to build stronger community relationships that would lead to less polarization and more unity on both sides. 

To my Christian friends, we have work to do. We are a group of people united across cultural, ethnic and socioeconomic lines by a common faith, yet we still segregate ourselves on Sunday mornings. If unity could happen anywhere, it should be with us. We are content with being the black church and the white church when we are called to be THE church. This breaks my heart. Christ has already done the work of reconciliation between man and God and in our relationships with one another.

Why do we allow cultural preferences to divide us and refuse to walk in the finished work of Christ? Will it be hard? Yes. Will the work of concilation be messy? Of course. But it's worth it. Let's take the lead in the unifying of our nation and be the beautiful, multicultural church God made us to be. Let's do what Jesus asked of us...love our neighbors as ourselves. Can we start by meeting to pray about all of this? Prayer will be the foundation of the change we desire. Your house or mine?

I want to leave you with two great resources as you pray about your next steps. First, there is a movement that started this year called The AND Campaign. This group was founded by urban Christian leaders that are taking action similar to the #BlackLivesMatter movement but from a gospel-centered perspective. I encourage you to check them out at this link and support them with your time, talents and treasures: http://theandcampaign.com/#campaignhome. Second, here's a video by DA Horton that would be a great starting point for our conversation and time of prayer. It would mean a lot to me if you'd take time to watch this and let me know when you want to meet to start praying: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIZThiaXyy.

To all my friends, "slacktivism" accomplishes nothing. Screaming at one another behind computer screens only serves to further divide us. I don't know about you, but I feel exhausted from watching the news and arguments on my social media feeds. Let's turn everything off and just love one another. We don't need a national platform to be part of change (although if you have that, I'd love to talk to you). We simply need to reach out to our neighbors who look or live differently from us and start a friendship. It's harder to stereotype when your life experiences have taught you otherwise. It's so much harder to polarize when you can put a face on an issue. Mother Teresa said, "If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other." Let's try to remember that and work to love our neighbors, especially those who are different from us, like they belong to us.

Let's start the conversation, friends, and then let's move from talking to doing. There is much work to do, but change is possible. We cannot stay where we are. I look forward to hearing from you.

Grace and peace,

Emily

#AltonSterling, #PhilandoCastile, #Dallas: Where Do We Go From Here?

I've been wrestling through a lot of emotions lately. I find it helpful sometimes to share those emotions with others through this blog. I've been trying to compose something for a few days, but have been having trouble.

On July 5th, I wanted to write about the value of black life - a topic I have shared about before - but it was hard to find the words to describe the feelings I felt after watching the shocking video of Alton Sterling being shot. It literally took my breath away.

On July 6th, after watching a second horrific video of a police officer shooting of a black male in front if his 4-year-old daughter and girlfriend, I wanted to write again but just couldn't put words to my emotions.

On July 7th, I watched in horror as news unfolded about the brutal murder of police officers in Dallas. Again, I had no words. Anything I could have said at those times was already being shared by people far more eloquent than me anyway.

Yesterday, as I drove home from a meeting, I passed a man standing on a corner holding a cardboard sign. It simply said "Practice non-violence." As I rolled past and read it, I couldn't figure out how to respond. I didn't feel like a thumbs-up or wave could convey my understanding and agreement. I, too, wanted the violence to stop and had been feeling like I just had to do something. But what? I was thinking about it as I drove the remaining blocks home.

As I pulled onto our street, a young African American male was walking down the sidewalk. As he walked, he was rapping along with whatever was in his earbuds with much emotion using correlating hand gestures (not an uncommon sight in our neighborhood). Then, the strangest thing happened. I felt the urge to stop my vehicle right there and get out and just give him a big hug. Now, for those of you who might be worried...I didn't do it. Not because I didn't want to, but because I thought he might think I was crazy. I'm sure that's what I would have felt if some random lady jumped out of her car and blindsided me with a hug for no reason.

As I parked and he walked on down the street, I just sat and cried. I desperately wanted that young man to know I wasn't afraid of his blackness. I wanted him to see that this white lady saw him as a young man made in God's beautiful image and not as a threat. I felt compelled to show him that white people aren't all the same and not all of us view him through a lens of fear or hatred. I wanted him to know that I, too, was grieving the loss of more precious black lives. But how could I convey that to a stranger?

I've also thought a lot about the people I know in law enforcement. I haven't always lived my life on the right side of the law. As a juvenile and young adult, I had some negative experiences with law enforcement and it has taken me years and relationships with real people to see that LEO's are people too. I know not all of them are the same and for all the officers who have racist ideas or who wield their power in an unjust way, there are many other officers who are working tirelessly to help their communities and keep people of all ethnicities and backgrounds safe. I know my old friends and many people in my neighborhood don't share this point of view, but I'm grateful for what those relationships have taught me. I want my friends in the law enforcement community to know that I am heartbroken at what happened in Dallas and what we're starting to see in other states. Their lives are also made in God's image and precious and I do appreciate the great work that so many officers risk their lives to do each day.

These relationships I've been privileged to have with people in both groups have given me a different and maybe unique perspective. It's harder for me to polarize- or separate people into stereotypical groups- because I have been gifted with real relationships with real people. So as I think about where to go from here, I want to leave you with an idea and an opportunity if you are local.

1. Relationships are the key to coming together as one. So, while I wouldn't recommend jumping out of your car to hug strangers, I would recommend engaging people different from ourselves in meaningful dialogue and friendships. Maybe it starts with an intentional warm smile or conversation with a stranger. Maybe it looks like inviting a co-worker with a different cultural background over for dinner. Maybe it looks like some of the beautiful acts of kindness I've read about in the news like the African American man giving Dallas police officers cold drinks while they worked or people who are not African American standing alongside black friends and neighbors demanding change (even if the injustice they see doesn't impact them directly). Can we each go out of our way to disarm one another with love? Can we each make it a priority to intentionally engage someone who looks or thinks differently from us? Whether we do it with a kind word or action, a listening ear or peaceful protest, can we just come together and do something?

2. If you live in our community, I have an opportunity for you to do just that. It's super short notice, but Chris and I will be at the Hardees in downtown Staunton at 9 in the morning. We are praying that some of you will make an effort to meet with us there to start this conversation. I would love to see that conversation move from Hardees to a larger venue where we can invite more people in to dialogue and find a middle ground with us. We're also inviting people to join us at our church afterward. I personally believe that the church has a message that can unite us regardless of our ethnic or cultural backgrounds and want to be part of change that begins within the church. You are invited to come and begin that process with us.

We are just two people from two culturally different backgrounds, but we (like that wonderful man with the cardboard sign) feel like we have to do something. Change happens when people are uncomfortable enough with where things are to take action to move to a different reality. I think we can at least agree that we are all hurting and grieving the unnecessary loss of precious lives in our country this week and something must change. Together, we have the power to make that happen. I hope you will join us.