Ferguson

I’ve been thinking about Ferguson since it happened and reading a lot of discussion related to it.

All of the facts are not yet out about what transpired, but this fact is consistent: an 18-year-old unarmed black kid was shot multiple times and killed by a white police officer.

There are no “buts” to that.

But he stole cigarillos from a store and pushed a store clerk. I shoplifted a few times when I was a kid, and I threw items at a store clerk across a counter as an adult. I wasn’t shot.

But  he was scary. What exactly made him scary? The fact that he was big? The fact that he was black? The fact that he was disobeying a police officer? And why was he so scary to someone who had a gun? And why did that someone feel the need to shoot the gun at least 6 times?

But he was dressed in a hoodie.  Oh, wait. That was another black kid who was shot and killed.

But a lot of police officers are killed in the line of duty. Yes, that fact is very sadly true along with countless other sad facts. How does that make this any less sad?

But people are “rioting”. Michael Brown isn’t rioting.

But not all police officers and not all white people. Yes, but still way too many. And one is all it takes.

Michael Brown was about Nicole’s age. I still get to drive her to soccer, make her dinner, and nag her about homework and her room. I still get to worry about her. Michael Brown’s mother doesn’t get to worry about him any more.

Here are some of the things that I’ve learned as I’ve been reading:

1. White people are not expressing outrage over what happened at nearly the same level as African Americans are. I’ve seen requests for whites to use their voices. Here’s my voice. What happened was terribly, terribly wrong. I don’t have all the facts, but, from what I’ve seen and read, I have a hard time believing that what happened can ever be justified.
2. The statistics regarding young black men are appalling – in particular the rate of incarceration. Many will argue the reasons behind those statistics. Whatever the reasons, we need to change them.
3. I am privileged and, because of that, I do not have a full understanding of the challenges faced by those who are not privileged. It will take continued learning on my part to improve my understanding.
4. Rather than colorblind, we should be colorful. I like this idea. I grew up in a lily-white town and raised my kids in a lily-white town. The only real exposure I’ve had to people of color was at college, and it was all too brief. During my recent weekend in DC, I enjoyed the colorfulness that was there.

There have been times when prejudicial thoughts have entered my mind. There have been times when I have not spoken up.

In DC, I took a very small step. I made eye contact, smiled, and said hello. What I found is that after I made eye contact, they often beat me to the hello.

While I was waiting for a bus, a young black man pulled up in his car and asked me if I knew where there was a gas station. I told him no, but as he was pulling away, I realized he was pretty desperate. I called out to him to wait, and I used my phone to look up the closest gas station. As he pulled away, he told me to have a beautiful day and then added something about me being beautiful. It made me smile.

People might think I’m taking a risk. I’ll take that risk over the risk of treating a human being like he doesn’t exist.