Be Humble. Sit Down. (Thoughts on Racism, Injustice, Empathy, and Accountability)

Racism is evil. Black lives matter.

Those two sentences shouldn’t be controversial.

On the surface, they seem like obvious facts, things no rational person could possibly disagree with. Most people can agree that racism is evil, yet it’s treated in such a way that it becomes hard to discuss openly without many people shrugging and dismissing the issue as if it’s a thing of the past.

Racism is not only evil, but it is still a problem today, even in America, a great country that aspires to be a beacon of freedom, equality, and hope. 

Some would say, especially in America, whose legacy has been tarnished with the reality of slavery and segregation.

Even so, a lot of us in America don’t want to talk about racism. I understand. After all, we don’t want to be defined by the sins of our forefathers. A lot of people say, “We fixed this already! Slavery is illegal. Segregation is illegal. All of America’s problems in regards to race have been fixed!”

If only that last sentence were true.

The fact is that the reality of racism is still a problem that affects people every day. Ignoring the problem doesn’t get rid of it—ignoring only leads to the ones hurt by the problem to feel ignored.

America has ignored the problem for long enough. And this isn’t just an Americans-in-general issue; this is an issue within the American church.

Christians should be the most determined to see racial reconciliation—after all, the gospel of Jesus is the gospel of reconciliation! The good news of Jesus means we can have unity in diversity.

But where is that unity? The nation is divided and unsettled, and not even the church can agree on a way to move forward. 

Is there a way forward at all, or are we doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again? Are we destined to see America divided year after year, decade after decade?

I pray not. I pray that Christians can rise up to be agents of peace, love, mercy, and justice.

But there is a way forward. Before we rise, we need to fall.

Humble.

The first step is humility. Humility is key because without it, true compassion and empathy cannot exist. Empathy without humility is patronizing and condescending.

Sometimes, in the out-of-context words of Kendrick Lamar, we need to hold up, sit down, and be humble. 

The question is, how can I—a white man in America—express humility in the volatile, sensitive topic of race relations?

Step One: Remember Your Wrongness

To be humble, a good starting point is to assume you’re incorrect. I’m not saying you are incorrect, but I am saying you’re human.

Even if you’re not wrong about the topic at hand, you are certainly wrong about something.

And I can guarantee you’re wrong about what you think is going on in your neighbor’s head—especially if your neighbor is from a different ethnic background than you. 

If you enter a conversation assuming you’re right, you’re not having a conversation: you’re having a fight. You cannot change the person you disagree with by forcing them to bend to your understanding of the facts.

You can’t change anyone at all. That is, except yourself. 

I’m not saying you must mindlessly bend your thoughts to match those of the masses. No. Please, keep thinking. Engage thoughtfully and critically.

But you should change your attitude, so that you can listen to others in a kind, respectful way that shows you truly are listening—not just trying to find holes in their argument, but really listening to their heart—and a way that shows you really actually care.

Especially for Christians, our greatest asset is love.

If we really love our neighbor as Christ commands us to, we will humble ourselves to serve them.

That means we don’t just correct them, but we value them.

This is especially true when your neighbor is of a different racial or ethnic background. You need to treat that neighbor in such a way that doesn’t prioritize your own understanding or experience.

If their understanding doesn’t match with yours, don’t assume they’re wrong. Even if you’re 100% sure you have all the facts, don’t assume they’re wrong. Their perspective matters.

There are some who will read this in light of current events and say, “Yes, that makes sense, but what does this really have to do with George Floyd?”

After all, the vast majority of people agree: the police officer who killed Floyd murdered him, and he needs to face justice for that crime.

But this issue is bigger. The protests are not about the tragic death of a good man—it’s the murder of a black man under the knee of a smug, white policeman. But, even deeper, the murder of George Floyd has transcended its specific situation in time to be a symbol of injustice.

George Floyd’s death is not an isolated incident that will be fixed by charging one police officer for third degree murder.

This tragic situation is an obvious example of proof for what minority communities have been trying to telling us for years—police brutality is a real problem, and so is systemic racism.

For me, as a white American, to say black lives matter, I’m going beyond saying George Floyd needs justice. I’m also saying we need justice for Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, and countless others, most of which never made the news.

This is where many white Americans get uncomfortable.

They will say systemic racism does not exist. They will say that a lot of these high profile cases have no proof of racism and that there were other factors that led to their deaths.

Meanwhile, the more we deny racism, we’re not showing love to our black brothers and sisters. We’re (perhaps inadvertently) telling them their pain doesn’t matter.

Communities are mourning! They don’t needs facts and figures to tell them that systemic racism isn’t real when they feel the weight of racism regularly.

When we tell a mourning family that their encounters of racism are because they read race into it, and when we tell people who’ve suffered from racism to stop “race baiting,” we are ignoring them at best. 

At worst, we’re gaslighting them for the sake of our own comfort, to maintain the status quo that’s good for “us” and unjust to “them.”

Here’s the thing that makes it more confusing: I’ve been painting with very broad, over-simplified strokes to make the point, but the reality is much more nuanced.

With every case of alleged racism, especially when police brutality and deadly force is involved, one can pick apart each case individually and cast doubt on whether race was even a factor.

This is where I’m going to say something even more controversial: The facts don’t matter as much as you think they do.

Especially since every fact is interpreted through your own bias. Even if the facts are completely in step with your understanding, facts should not drive the discussion.

Yes, facts are important for the sake of context and grounding the issue in reality, but you should also pay attention where you got your facts from the in the first place, and don’t treat the facts as the truth unless you’re absolutely sure.

But, even more important than the facts, is how we approach each discussion.

This leads me back to love. If we really value our neighbors and love them as Jesus does, every interaction needs to be rooted in that love.

Love starts with humility, as I’ve already mentioned.

The next step is empathy for the wronged and a desire for accountability for the wrong.

Empathy and Accountability for All

It’s easy to empathize with people who are like us, and if people like us are wronged, it’s very easy to unmercifully seek justice by holding that person accountable.

The next step is to treat our neighbors who don’t look like us and come from a different ethnic background with equal empathy. 

Listen to their story! Put yourself in their shoes. Listen genuinely, not multitasking in trying to prepare a comeback. Don’t discount their story.

Their story is their reality.

Someone who’s lived under the pain of systemic racism and broken trust of law enforcement doesn’t need you to tell them they’re wrong because you heard a statistic.

They know their reality better than you do. And when we get right down to it, we both want the same thing. 

After all, what are so many white Americans trying to say?

“Think about what law enforcement officers go through everyday. Can you imagine having to put your life on the line like that? Can you imagine leaving home not knowing if today could be your last? Not all cops are bad! Cops aren’t racist. I know plenty of cops! All they want to do is help people, but now they’re being unfairly vilified. Most policemen I know would never shoot anyone unless absolutely necessary. I love police and can empathize with what they’re going through, so therefore let’s see what caused the officer to pull the trigger. Let’s get the full story to hold the thug accountable so my friends in law enforcement can be vindicated.”

If you can say that, you can also listen to the heart wrenching stories of your minority neighbors.

As a white American, I take the friendliness of the police for granted. I’ve rarely been fearful for my life. 

Meanwhile, the reality of so many black Americans is such that they’re scared of law enforcement. They’ve seen police brutality for longer than they’ve been able to catch it on camera and share it on facebook. 

If we can empathize with policemen and seek to hold law-breakers accountable, there is nothing stopping us from empathizing with victims and seeking to hold corrupt policemen accountable. 

If you love law enforcement, you should desire they be kept accountable so they can serve the communities in the best way possible. We should be able to challenge the notion of acceptable force without being labeled a “cop hater.” 

All this to say, listen to each other!

Though we might not know it, we all really want the same thing.

I don’t know what the long term solution for this issue can be, but I do know that we should check our biases and go out of our way to listen to those who aren’t like us.

I know that racism is alive, and we need to have courage to fight it when it rears its head.

I know that black lives matter, and we should help our black brothers and sisters in whatever ways we can.

I know a way forward isn’t as easy as posting blogs or using hashtags or anything like that. Each of us are in different situations with different abilities to help, so there’s not an easy call-to-action that will apply to everyone.

But I do know that as we seek a way forward, it’s up to each of us to value diversity and humble ourselves for the sake of unity.

Be humble, and love your neighbor. When we all do that, the solutions will present themselves one day at a time, one opportunity at a time.

But it starts with choosing love.

Though solutions feel far and unattainable, it starts now with each of us, when each of us make a choice.

So don’t be selfish, and choose wisely.