Yesterday, I started having a painful conversation with…myself.

For someone who uses her words to tell a story, I did a very poor job of that over the weekend. I lay at night going over what I said and how much I said was wrong. In my mind the words I was coming up with sounded eloquent. Yet, when they flew from my mouth they had missed their mark. They lay floundering like fish out of water.

I’m not a politician so this “epiphany” isn’t a photo op. My acknowledgement of my failings comes from looking long and hard at what I said – and at myself as a whole.

Over the weekend, a group of us were on our bi-monthly Zoom meeting when our conversation turned to current events – the killing of George Floyd and the protests that followed.

In my effort to bring some common ground to the conversation of our mixed group, I failed to see how I missed the point of the protests. I’ve been berating myself ever since.

Among my friends are people of other races – black, brown, and yellow. I don’t see them with color, and in doing so, I overlooked that they have lived with prejudice, with fear of police and our government for most if not all of their lives.

What I do believe is that for many of us who are among the white privileged, we don’t put ourselves in their place – either because we don’t think about it or we don’t care. Both are sins against our fellow man – no matter what color or gender they may be. We fail to remember the American Indian wisdom of walking a mile in someone else’s shoes.

Part of what I said that day is that we are all of the human race and that doesn’t come without responsibilities to each other. I feel I got that part right. But for me to say that most of us have struggles, some more than others missed the point people of color have long said and what the protesters are saying now.

So, I have cleaned out my ears and shut my mouth so I can listen to the anguished voices around me. I know that is not enough; that I must put my beliefs into action and support my friends in their struggles for social and economic justice.

It is time to remove the ingrained fear from our genetic make-up since Jim Crow– the one that whites need to dominate blacks – and turn that energy into something more productive and inclusive. It is time to open ourselves to new conversations about race and what is expected of our law enforcement. For as our social problems grew and came into the glaring limelight, we have expected our officers to be marriage counselors in domestic arguments, social workers, EMTs when there is a drug overdose and keep people from sleeping on sidewalks and so much more. As I have family in law enforcement, we must not forget there are real crimes they respond to in their efforts to keep us all safe.

A mosaic is at its greatest beauty when more color is added to the work of art.

– mb