I’m a white man living in a mostly white neighborhood. Our church congregation had one, lone Black member until she died early this year. When she arrived we welcomed her with open arms, and we miss her. So what do we do now?
I’m not advocating a search for a replacement member. It will happen or not. For me, it’s more about state of mind and heart — what do we think and feel? And what will we do to make Black lives matter? Will we resign ourselves to “helplessness” and complacency — “Well, OK, now we are all-white again” — or will we act on our thoughts and feelings and stand for what is right?
I fully subscribe to the idea that not all lives can matter until Black lives matter. After all, these people are our brothers and sisters. Some decisive action is far overdue. We need to make this right.
I have to admit that I had deluded myself, thinking that we had left our racist ways far behind. How sad and pathetic that we are still stuck here in 2020. Racism is alive, well and rampant and permeates further than I wanted to consider.
I am reminded of the movie, “The Long Walk Home,” set during the time of the Montgomery, Ala., bus boycott. A “white power” crowd gathered at a parking lot, the hub of the Black movement’s transportation. This gang of rageful thugs was determined, by any means, to shut the lot down. The white mob and the hymn-singing Black people faced each other down. One of the brave Black women stretched a pleading hand out toward a young white woman and her daughter. She and her daughter tearfully, but proudly crossed over, joining them in singing a hymn about Jesus until the mob dispersed.
Ask yourselves how far we have come and how much further we need to go. And then, my white brothers and sisters (and all the rest of us) decide where you will stand.
Lothair Pendleton, Salt Lake City
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