Honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

It feels especially important to commemorate Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. this year. To stop and consider, reacquaint or learn anew, admire and give thanks for his incredible courage and conviction and impact. Eric Garner, Tamir Rice, Michael Brown and Ferguson, repeated and outrageous police conduct, overt racism within our criminal justice system... The list goes on, and while I'm certain Dr. King would be chagrined by how tenacious the tentacles of systemic racism continue to be, I also think that the intensity of interracial dialogue about and responses to the recent tragic events might sustain his hope. In many ways, they have mine. King said, in "The Birth of a New Nation," a sermon he delivered in 1957 at Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, "Freedom only comes through persistent revolt, through persistent agitation, through persistently rising up against the system of evil." I see, in the conversations I've been privileged to have and witness, in the actions of communities across the country, in the push-back against untrained, biased members of the police corps, such agitation, such rising up. In it, I feel optimism for a more just future.

Even a cursory read through King's speeches, writings, sermons and history of activism astounds me, each and every time: he was so forward-thinking and so incredibly able to distill societal problems into elemental arguments of right and wrong.

Just a year before he died (in 1968), he said to a crowd at Riverside Church, "So we have been repeatedly faced with the cruel irony of watching Negro and white boys on TV screens as they kill and die together for a nation that has been unable to seat them together in the same schools. So we watch them in brutal solidarity burning the huts of a poor village, but we realize that they would hardly live on the same block in Chicago. I could not be silent in the face of such cruel manipulation of the poor." Then, he was talking about unequal treatment of black and white Americans despite their having served and sacrificed equally in Vietnam. Change the context only slightly, and these words could ring equally true today.

As Tom and I drove south from DC toward Richmond last Friday, we passed, just before Fredericksburg, a giant Confederate flag waving proudly alongside I95. Both of us were shocked, rendered almost speechless. I believe Tom mustered, "Wow. Classy." while I stuttered repeatedly, "WTF?!" before taking to Facebook to express my disgust. It was brought to my attention that in addition to it being Dr. King, Jr's birthday, it was also Lee-Jackson Day.

Erm, how about a 'Happy Birthday Robert and Thomas' sign instead of the flag which symbolizes infinitely more than -and perhaps not at all?!- their birthdays?

That said, I believe in free speech as well as the words of Maajid Nawaz* who, and I'm paraphrasing here, avers that while we all have the right to be offended, we cannot insist that others not offend us. The bigot flying that flag can do so but I have every right to be pretty grossed out. There is a difference between systemic oppression and free speech, and I do believe that in a democratic society, we need to fight the former while respecting the latter. Oppression is different than offense although I admit the line between them is sometimes uncomfortably thin.

Today, and in the days and weeks and months to come, I urge us all to consider how we might better listen to opposing viewpoints with open hearts and ears; how we might tease out ugly words from ugly policy and focus our efforts on combating the latter. We are getting nowhere with overly partisan screeching. It's sometimes easier to propagate ideology and violence than to listen to the pain in each other's hearts and respect differences, in opinion and experience.

www.em-i-lis.com

I took the boys down to the MLK, Jr. Memorial today, and boy was it glorious. We walked hand in hand under the bright blue sky, reading the many quotes of King's etched in the stone surrounds. Oliver said, "Do you know that when Mawtin Lufer King was a boy, he had a white fwend? And then that white fwend's mom wouldn't let vem play togever anymore just because of skin?" Jack said, "Isn't that stupid?! Also, Martin Luther King said that if one person wasn't nice, that would hurt us all. It's like, you can't be a bystander."

They get it, and I am so grateful. I hope, so deeply and dearly, that at some point, it's gotten by all. That the Dream and the Marches and the brutality and judgment that so many had to endure will be things that we reflect back upon with reverence (and relief at their passing) rather than ahead to in any way.

~~~~~ *Do y'all know of Maajid Nawaz? Born in Britian, he was a member of a radical Islamist revolutionary group until he was imprisoned in Egypt in 2001. During his time in jail (until 2006), he befriended many other Muslim activists and thinkers, studied, learned and ultimately came to believe that "I was abusing my faith for a mere political project. After learning through my studies in prison that Islamism was not the religion of Islam, but rather a modern political ideology, I no longer felt guilty simply for criticising a political system inspired by 7th century norms." After release, he co-founded (with other former radical activists) Quilliam, an anti-extremist think tank.

After recently hearing him interviewed on NPR and being amazed by how incredibly thoughtful, insightful and well-spoken he is, I've just ordered his book, Radical.

A'stir

I feel heavy right now, weighted with angst and disquietude. It didn't help that I awoke this morning in the midst of a nightmare that felt anything but; its realistic nature has left me skittish all day. I tried to exercise and cook away this prickly feeling, but have had little luck and find myself looking forward to tonight's slumber simply for its escapist possibility. One of my children has been terribly vexing since I returned from Italy, his behavior a peculiar blend of familiar impishness and atypical aggression that has us all on edge. I have spent so much energy attempting to understand, manage, counsel and repair that there's been no space to simply enjoy him. I've not met with any success in better understanding and feel only slight more adept at managing his outbursts. I wonder if my methods of handling things are right. I wonder what's at the root of all this. If it's "normal" or not. If it will pass quickly, or if I need to gird myself for a long stint of rough waters.

New negative behaviors tend to fluster me. Parenting is so hard anyway, a demanding job in the calmest of times. When stuff arises and I can tell it's fire ants versus lady bugs, my heart sinks a bit because dealing with it is going to take extra. When extra becomes the status quo, it's exhausting. I don't feel like my little family sails in glassy pools too often. No, we seem to push or be drawn towards the rougher swells, and frankly, I'm really over the watery roller coaster right now. I'm motion sick and in need of stasis. I simply want to enjoy my kids, enjoy the Christmas season and not feel like most of each day takes quite so much effort.

After delivering the party food tonight, I went to school for a community meeting about what's been going on in Ferguson and New York. Because the boys attend a Quaker school, this was a quiet meeting with no moderator; if individuals feel called to speak, they're welcome to; otherwise, silent reflection is the agenda. Tonight's was the most active meeting I've ever attended. It was profound and moving and thought-provoking. My heart was in my throat not five minutes in, beating assertively as if ingesting and then trying to process the pain and fear and frustration and hope reverberating throughout the room.

I wanted to say how heavy my heart has been since the Garner decision came down, how despondent I felt in hearing some of my co-parents' stories and concerns this evening, how grateful I felt to be sharing space with so many incredibly people, how responsible I feel for raising my boys so that, in their own little ways, they can try to make a positive difference in the world. I again tasted the bitter pill that is racial privilege, learning anew some of the things that I haven't much thought about because I haven't had to. I can't imagine worrying about my son's safety every time he left the house simply because of his skin color. What a grotesque, unjust burden. And how unfair that I (and my family) am exempt from that because my skin is white.

The comments shared tonight put many things in perspective, and I am thankful for that. But I still feel awfully churned up. When will my quartet find a better-paved groove in which we can coast, if only for a bit? When will our country finally reckon with truths too many wish to keep packed away, a behavior which benefits only a few at the dramatic expense of many? There are growing pains and there are pains that come from being bound and stunted. Both are difficult to endure, but only one offers hope and a positive outcome afterward.

Black Lives Matter

Yesterday, after the announcement that the grand jury in the Eric Garner homicide case decided not to indict Daniel Pantaleo, the officer who killed Garner, a friend of mine shared this on Facebook:

Her daughter, a third grader with Jack, drew it.

Jack and Oliver are drawing pictures of butts and light sabers. Their big concerns are the shape of the pasta I'll cook for dinner and whose turn it is to do the advent calendar. No, I haven't told them about Ferguson or Staten Island, I've kept from them all the school shootings and other general societal shittiness, but I can choose to safeguard them from that information. I can choose to keep them a bit younger for a bit longer.

I am extremely pissed off and heartbroken that my friend's daughter has to process all this. She and her brother are growing up black in America, and this is what they're drawing on a Wednesday afternoon. What heavy burdens for young souls. To be black and write out, "Black Lives MATTER!!!" I cannot fathom what that must feel like, but I know it must hurt and pound and ache and confuse. It must enrage and sadden. It must do so many things.

My friend was stunned and saddened too and sat down with her kids to talk. They had many questions, which were "naive but perceptive" in my friend's words.

"Pres. Obama is African American. Why is he allowing this to happen?"

"Why do they need to do an investigation when there's a video tape of the whole thing?"

"Would this have happened if Eric Garner were white?

"When is it ok for a policeman to kill somebody? Does the person have to threaten the officer first?"

"Is it legal to choke a guy just because he's selling cigarettes? Even if the guy did something really bad...like steal something or do drugs...isn't there another way to punish him? Isn't that why we have jail?"

"Isn't there a way for the police man to shoot but not kill a person? Can't they shoot to scare a guy? Or shoot to stop a guy in his tracks?"

"Does protesting ever work?"

Truly, y'all, I am just speechless. I don't know what to do with this sort of injustice. The Garner case seems infinitely more clear cut to me than Ferguson. A man is choked to death ON VIDEO and there is no indictment?

What message is this sending to all of us? It doesn't suggest to me that black lives matter. Not all of them, at least. Not to certain people.

I have sought advice and think I am right in not telling my kids about these events. And part of me feels extremely let off the hook by that because not all parents get that same freedom. I would be so ashamed to tell the boys that one man killed another for no good reason at all and didn't even lose his job.

This is so bleak.