It’s Christmas Eve. It’s time to put away controversial discussions. It’s time to move divisive topics to the back burner. It’s time to stop rocking the boat; stop troubling the waters; stop making people feel uncomfortable. It’s time to post videos of cute kittens. It’s time to post pictures of smiling kids in Santa’s lap; beautifully-adorned trees; lavishly-appointed dinner tables. It’s time to post about the love and warmth of family; the blessings of the year. But injustice doesnt take a holiday. Our biases and prejudices don’t go on Christmas break. White privilege works today and tomorrow the same way it does the other 363 days. Somewhere today a black male will stop and stand dutifully with his shopping bag open, receipt prominently visible, both hands in clear view, waiting for an employee to come check his receipt – even though no store employee or greeter or security guard is anywhere near the door – because the anti-theft alarm went off as he started to exit the store and he’s afraid of the consequences if he continues walking. And a white guy will walk by, also set off the alarm, look around and see no employees, then shrug his shoulders and keep waking. That’s white privilege. A black lady with three children will try to pay for a shopping cart full of groceries with a debit card that wont work because it got too close to a piece of her youngest child’s magnetic building block set which the child hid in her mother’s purse and white lady behind her will roll her eyes and cast a knowing glance at the nearest other white person and get a confirming shake of the head. And a white lady with an overdrawn bank account will try to buy two bottles of wine and then mumble something about needing to change banks because her bank keeps sending her debit cards with malfunctioning magnetic strips and nearby-white-people will nod in agreement about the incompetent banks. That’s white privilege. It’s subtle. Tomorrow families will gather for warm embraces and familiar laughter; joy and happiness all around. And sometime after jointly asking our dear heavenly Father to bless the abundance of sumptuous food, some of the menfolk will embark on some of the most horribly racist tirades youve heard all year – about President Obama; about black males who got what they deserved from rogue white cops; about black single mothers on food stamps. Fourteen-year-old Samaria Rice would love to take a holiday away from her broken and anguished heart. She would love to put her sorrow on the back burner. She would love to be able to spend one more Christmas with her younger brother, born two years after her. She would love to be able to pretend that injustice goes on Christmas break. A month ago, young Tamir Rice was playing with a BB-gun at the playground directly across the street from their home. He was alone, obviously lonesome and bored, judging by the video. He walked around pretending to shoot the gun, at no one, because no one else was around. After several minutes of walking back and forth playing with the gun, he went and sat down at a picnic table under a gazebo. He sat there for several minutes, perhaps waiting on other kids to come to the playground. Finally, he got up and begin walking out from under the gazebo. Suddenly, a police car comes flying up and abruptly stops and Tamir is on the ground dead, as the doors are opening on the police vehicle. Either the mentally-unstable cop in the front passenger seat of the cruiser shot Tamir dead through his open window before the car fully stopped; or, Tamir instinctively went face-down on the ground at the sight of a police vehicle and the officer got out and shot him on the ground. When Samaria heard all the commotion, she came running from their home to check on her little brother. When she saw him on the ground, she tried to run to him, to hold him, to comfort him. But the police tackled and handcuffed her and wouldnt let her cradle her brother’s dying body. Samaria will never have a holiday away from that. John Crawford was on an aisle alone, playing with a BB-gun he had picked up off of a shelf in the Beaver Creek Walmart in Ohio. On the video, he is twirling it around on his right hand as if mimicking a gunslinger in a western movie, while holding his cell phone in his left hand. He glances to the left and sees a police officer coming down the aisle with a semi-automatic rifle pointed at him. Immediately and instinctively, he lays the gun down on the floor in full view of the officer and runs to the end of the aisle, taking cover at the end of the shelves which divide the space into two aisles. He then sees another officer coming down the other aisle. Now he’s trapped, with nowhere to go and no time to logically plot out the very best next move, so he runs back around the end of the shelves and is immediately gunned-down by the first officer, after being given no time in which to comply with any orders, if any orders were even given and, after having clearly surrendered his weapon to the floor in full view of the officer. John and Tamir had done nothing wrong. They had done nothing illegal. They hadn’t stolen a fist-full of cigarillos. They hadn’t deprived the government of tax revenue on loosies. They were both in Ohio where it is perfectly legal to openly carry a gun. Their families would love two days of respite; two days of their hearts not breaking. Meanwhile, white open-carry protesters walk around with loaded assault rifles, completely unmolested by police. More white privilege. So while youre enjoying food and fun and fellowship and family and friends; while youre enjoying life’s bounty; while youre enjoying privilege; think before you say something ugly about others; think before you so harshly judge others; think of yourself being in the shoes of others. Merry Christmas.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 20:19:20 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015