Waking Up

 While I thought I grew up in a fairly unbigoted family, and we had rather liberal views compared to my friends' families, I was not open to the first time that I encountered the concept of white privilege.  In my defense, this was presented with a lot of shaming and accusations that I didn't feel like I deserved. If all the cultural competency training was for was to paint some of us as evil and some as victims, then what good was it? But, fortunately, that first training was not the last.

I think I had some form of cultural competency training about every year for my last decade of teaching.  Then I took a book study at church.  And I finally started to get it.  It finally started to mean something to me.  And I finally heard some things i could do, instead of just feel guilty or ashamed that I was white and enjoyed white privilege.

I learned about allies.  I could align myself with the angels and speak up when I saw wrong being committed.  I could join instead of observe the struggle.  I don't see myself going down to the protest marches, it isn't who I am, what I do.  I am old and slow.  I would probably be a casualty rather than a help. But, I can write letters.  I can support candidates.  I can speak up in justice if cruelty is right before my face.

I wish I could end hate, but it seems to be as old as mankind.  All I can do, it seems to me is to promote love where I am, in my little plot, in my neighborhood.