George Floyd, A Senseless Sacrifice

I grew up on the west coast, mostly in Idaho, safely tucked away in a white environment, where there was little diversity other than religion. We were all aware of the white supremacists up north and we viewed them with disdain. I had Latino friends, knew I wasn’t racist, and was exposed to some black history, those stories always making my heart ache and my eyes well with tears. But I never truly felt the heat of injustice toward others until I moved to NC. The travesties of prejudice are abhorrent and ever present. The only thing I can give my voice to in this moment is the despicable behavior of the people in this country. My country.

I sit on the edge of rage, heartbreak and deep love. 

We have witnessed a murder, for sport. Again. By a white police officer. 

George Floyd. 

A good and decent man who encouraged kids to avoid gun violence. Who was a gentle giant to the woman he dated. Who begged in agony for his mama as the last breath in his body was smothered out of him. 

We are a nation in shock. Wordless. Crying. Sickened. Disgusted. But as a free white female in an ‘equal’ America how much right do I have to speak of this? And yet, how can I not?? 

I will never have to know what it is like to walk through life in uncertainty and fear, always prepared for the worst, keeping my head down, never reaching into my pockets, knowing that there is no reality in which equality is true. Just because I’m white. Not black. 

Even as a woman who is part of the #Metoo movement I will never experience oppression in its rawest, most evil form.  

I have a dear friend who is my roommate and happens to be black. I love him and his tender beautiful heart to pieces. He said, “We find ourselves in the same place. Killed because of the color of our skin instead of treated by the content of our character.” He has had to have conversations with his son because he needs to be prepared. Conversations the rest of us will never experience. 

We can’t make sense of it. Understand it. Because it defies reason. It defies humanity itself. 

As riots continue, sweeping across the country with anger and frustration, manifesting in fires, looting and savagery, people keep saying that we need to begin with love because nothing good ever came from violence. How simplistic. While I can certainly agree with the sentiment that everything should come from a place of love, we cannot allow ourselves to be so naive, surrounded by platitudes that help us sleep at night, yet doing nothing to create change. We have ALL seen that it does not work for everyone. Those whose hearts are filled with hatred, those who choose ignorance and entitlement have no respect or regard for love and DO NOT RECOGNIZE IT. Historically, anyone making a stand for change has had to eventually resort to violence before anyone would sit up and take notice. It was Martin Luther King who said, “A riot is the language of the unheard.” He recognized and “condemned the contingent, intolerable conditions that exist in our society.” That was 1968. He was not a man who advocated violence, or hate. He was a man who came from pure love and made it his life’s mission to teach that to everyone, while pleading for equality. A right we should already share. He was murdered for it. 

Murdered. 

Like George Floyd. 

We can be heartbroken, we can cry a bucket of tears, we can say it’s all too hard to watch. But it will never even begin to add up to what these people, our black brothers and sisters, live with every waking and sleeping moment. I neither condone nor condemn violence or riots. I have no actual idea or cast any judgment on how people are responding to the way they feel right now. I can certainly support the black people that I know, and those they represent and I can look for ways to make a difference. But I can never begin to understand nor do I have the right to assume that I do. My privilege will always be white privilege. No matter what my heart is, it will never be enough to cure this cancerous growth of hatred and prejudice. Never. I can start there with the love in my heart, and the outrage, that can fuel me forward to contribute. 

Of course violence won’t eradicate racism, but neither will prosaic statements of love, prayers and thoughts or standing by and saying nothing. By our silence, we are not neutral, we are complicit. When people are marginalized and dehumanized again and again, while everyone around them is treated with dignity, simply for the color of their skin, we don’t get to pass judgement on how they defend themselves. If peace matters to us then we should add our voice, in peace, with theirs.

I personally know some good and decent police officers, and I’m sure they stand in fear right now. And sorrow. Maybe we all need to. Then step up! Because somewhere along the line, other members of their ‘Blue Boy’s Club’ have stood quietly by while entitled officers who are racist and capable of murder roam the streets with authority and a gun in their holster, arrogant enough to imagine that their white elitist mentality would go unpunished. As it has for decades. It’s wrong. And it’s not going anywhere, until we make it. 

I don’t have answers, and I’m at a loss as to what steps to take next. But you can make damn sure that I am compelled to find out. It will require much more than we are doing now to extinguish the injustice that is still poisoning our society. A society we have helped create. Change will only come when we acknowledge the fact that we have no idea what they’re going through, when we take the lead of those who have lost the most, and listen to them. 

There is so much in the world to be angry about right now, and the choices are dizzying. We are disillusioned, exhausted, disgusted. But we cannot be distracted by the loss of property or the fear. One truth remains and must be fought for. 

A father. A son. A friend. Murdered. Over $20. 

George Floyd.