America has a great story. Heroes, optimism, the underdog winning. In America, this is the story we tell. Look at all the feel-good movies that you will re-watch on cold and snowy days that have these values and characters.
But, we often ignore the story of black America as a part of the American story. I was watching the story of Ruby Bridges not too long ago with my two children. Which character did I resonate with them most? Kevin Pollack’s character - a white academic. Even in the portrayal of a moment of great courage and success of a young black girl, the writers of the movie adaptation focused heavily on the white man…
Sadly, I might be more closely aligned to Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell’s statements than I would like to admit about how we understand what it means to be American.
A black man gives health to the Colonists, but nobody knows him.
For example, Onesimus, An African held in slavery, first introduced the idea of vaccines in 1721 to stop a smallpox outbreak in the New England colonies. This black man saved countless lives by bringing a medical procedure done in Africa and the Middle East to benefit Europeans.
Where is his movie?
But many of us don’t learn the story of Onesimus. And for those of us who have, we don’t embrace as a part of OUR identity.
The reality is I am a descendant on my mother’s side from the colonists of New England. Onesimus’ intelligence and compassion might have saved my family and definitely strengthened the colonies ability to win the Revolutionary war later that century.
What did my family do at the time? Some might have held others in slavery, some might have sold the preventative cure and profited off of Onesimus’ idea. Some might have protested the vaccine, because we refused to accept ‘African medicine.’
It is more difficult for me to see my ancestors as the hero of this story. In the parable of the Good Samaritan, who should we strive to be like? The robber? The victim? No. Many of us were raised to believe that we are called to be the Good Samaritan. I don’t want to be the bad guy in the story, none of us do.
But American history is more complex…
I have visited the National Museum for African American history three separate times. Once in 2018 with my son, Sammie. When we were checking out of thee gift shop, I had an amazing conversation with an African American woman from New York who was visiting the museum with her sister - both were educators. She asked me why I was there. In conversation, I expressed the reality that this was my history too, even if I don’t like where my ancestors stood.
Only by wrestling with the complexities of America can the true colors of the American tapestry shine through brighter than could ever be seen by ignoring others.
My ancestry traveled to Ohio through Alabama on my dad’s side. I remember visiting Gettysburg as a Middle School kid with my dad and we searched for potential relatives names on the Alabama statues. My grandparents moved up to Ohio after WWII and my grandpa got a union job with GM. They struggled. While my dad and his siblings grew up in a less-than-ideal situation, they eventually moved to a high quality school district and my dad and all his siblings graduated high school and went off to college. My dad and his siblings - within one generation - went from poor sharecroppers into upper middle/upper class professionals.
The story would have been very different if my grandfather would have not been white. In the 1950s black men were last hired and first fired in many of the factories in the industrial midwest. Different unions responded very differently to racial inclusion. We systematically and intentionally denied access to the best schools to black and brown Americans.
That is part of our history - for better or for worse…
I now carry the privilege that was afforded to my grandfather and my father that was denied to my black and brown neighbors. I grew up never knowing hunger. We struggled, but we always had food on the table. I grew up in a great school district and access to healthcare in my community. We had access to grocery stores in my overwhelmingly middle class white community.
Now, redlining has technically been reduced, but we see it still with grocery store and medical center investments. Districts no longer legally segregate, but, we continue to see the inequities in school funding between black and white neighborhoods due to property taxes. Home ownership continues to be the way middle class families build wealth, yet home ownership disparities have increased.
Because of the privilege unequivocally awarded to my family over the hundreds of years of American history, I am given advantages and privileges that others do not have.
Institutional racism is about addressing the systems - education, food, healthcare, economic opportunity, banking and more and deconstructing the racist foundations on which they were built.
Anti-racism work is not about removing the grocery store from one neighborhood, but making sure that all neighborhoods have access to a grocery store.
God’s abundance is not a zero-sum game. There is enough dignity, love, honor, food, and wealth to go around so that all should have equal opportunity and be equitable members of the community.
My ancestors were there in the National African American History Museum. Some on the right side of history, some on the wrong side. The question I have today is which side am I on?
Tips for White folks during Black History month:
LISTEN! Listen to a black musician, author, commentator, activists and leaders that you have never listened to before. Try to hear what they are saying with fresh ears.
EDUCATE: Teach your kids or congregation something about black history.
CONTINUE: Don’t stop on February 28th. Black history is American history. Make a commitment now for the next 12 months of learning OUR black American history!
DONATE: Support black led organizations, candidates, and leaders. The non-profit and other pathways to building power are still filled with roadblocks for our black and brown neighbors.