White Girl Losses

I can't do it.... I just can't. I have sat in front of this computer for over an hour now, a mess... tears down my face... my insides all twisted and throbbing and aching...

I am just a mess. And I am at a loss -

a loss for words because I don't know what to say to make any of this right. 

I wish I could eloquently and articulately explain how wrong it all is or lay out statistics and sociological truths, and I wish I could logically and rationally explain through social media outlets the complex and painful world that we live in, and I wish I was well-versed and knowledgable enough to break down the arguments against racism and against hoisting that damn confederate flag around our country, and I wish I could do it all in a way that didn't make so many people from my hometown and family resent me.

a loss of courage because I care so much about what my people think of me that I remain silent instead of speak out against what is wrong. 

And it is wrong. It is so wrong. My God, everything is so wrong. People are dying... how can so many people not care? How is it that so many people on my Facebook and in my life don't care? Or even worse - they care... but only about themselves and posting their arguments to put the blame on anyone or anything else but racism and the systematic injustice that has for centuries oppressed people of color.... A black person (black people, so many people) dies unjustly at the hands of a system supposedly there to protect him/her, and you make this about you and your life mattering!?! You spin their story into some rhetoric about how he/she deserved it because they smoked weed? I have smoked weed before. Does that mean I deserve to be throttled alive, shot in the head, or the back, or left to die in a prison cell? Oh, she talked back to the officer? I talk back to authority all the time. In fact, I am often praised for it whereas people of color are literally eliminated from the earth while we stand back posting unflattering photos all over the media sphere, and nod our heads as we righteously explain: "She had it coming, acting like that." Don't you see what is happening!? It is racism! It is injustice! It is this wrong, wrong world. But I wouldn't say that because then we'll get in a fight in the comment section of my Facebook or you'll make me leave the house until I cool off and "see sense again."

a loss. Just a loss. So much loss. 

Because my coworker texts me, asking me to pray for her boyfriend, a black male, that was on the phone talking to her when he got pulled over, and it had been thirty minutes since he called her back and she is scared for his life. 

Because my friend living in Chicago is afraid to drive around her city because with any wrong move, it could be her name we see all over Twitter and Facebook. 

Because my roommate just had her birthday, and we wanted to celebrate by going for a hike at Stone Mountain, but there is a rally to stand for and celebrate the same southern heritage that fought to the death to keep her people enslaved. 

Because my student tells me that when he walks the streets of Georgia Tech at night, white students run away from him or cross the street quickly to avoid crossing paths with a black man with a hoodie on in December with a backpack full of chemistry books. 

Because my best friend calls me while she is driving to help her friend move, weeping... in hysterics.... because every where she looks there are confederate flags hanging from every car window, the driver not even realizing or not even caring just how much pain and fear this is causing her. I want to smash the window in, rip the flag out and scream and shout: "Do you see this woman? Look at her. This is my best friend, and she is the most beautiful person I've ever met and HOW DARE YOU? How dare you care more about your damn agenda and your 'southern heritage' than this beautiful, precious, wonderful life right here?"  ...this life, her life... his life... these remarkable lives... so many incredible people made in the glorious image of a merciful Creator, a Creator that, despite our insistence to the contrary, certainly thinks that Black Lives Matter. 

And Black lives, they do matter... so much. 

Because at any point, I could replace the word "black" with the name of any one my friends. Friends that have taught me more about the Gospel than I ever learned in a sermon. Friends that lament and mourn and grieve and raise their hands, imploring God to do something, while they are attacked on Facebook for expressing their feelings because to admit that this is wrong and it hurts and it is scary and racism exists is actually "perpetuating racism." ("racism against white people" "all lives matter" "etc")/(And by the way, what the hell kind of argument is that!?!?) Friends that show me steadfast grace when I say something insensitive, or when my privilege allows me to not have to deal with this injustice in the same way or at all, or when I get uncomfortable with their pain and don't know what to say. Friends that have taught me the meaning of long-suffering and unshakable faith in a God that will restore and bring freedom, at long last. Friends that open up, willingly sharing their stories of pain and brokenness and their experience of being black in this country - friends that choose to trust me despite all of the ways that I have hurt them in the past with my insensitive and ignorant remarks and jokes. My black friends teach me about Jesus. My black friends are some of the best parts of my life. 

And it comes to this. Because this is a long, emotional post that amounts to nothing except: "I am a white woman at a loss for how to deal with this." I am a white woman that struggles with her own racial prejudices. And her tensions of wanting to get defensive instead of confronting the twisted evil that my people have committed against people of color in the past and admitting that I am where I am today because of the ways that has shot me to the top of the ladder. And her fears that she will get yelled at or unfriended on Facebook if she says something against the status quo or posts this when she is finished writing it. 

Not to mention her attempts to write a blog that says something of value, that says something meaningful and true and foundational about racism and the lives of her black friends, but instead she makes it all about her and how 'hard' it is to live in this place of: "Honestly, I don't know what to do. And I'm scared if I speak up, I will get shot down." 

These are my white girl losses... the resounding, pulsating effects of my privilege. These are the gnawing, ripping sensations of feeling powerless for once in my life. These are the hands held open to my black friends, teachers, coworkers, mentors, roommates, and spiritual family, and these are the words I wish I could say: "I am so sorry. I can never express the evil we have done, the evil we still do. I wish it all was over. I wish the world saw you and treasured you in all the million ways you are worthy of. I wish the world was fair. I wish I wasn't so selfish and whiny so often, making our conversations and making blog posts about how uncomfortable this all is for me. And thank you. You can never know how much you mean to me. For you have shown me Jesus, you are his flesh... his hands that warmly grip me as you say, 'I forgive you.'"

White girl losses. Not even a whisper of what the black community has lost this year and throughout the centuries. 

White girl losses.

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but losses can lead to new life.

 "Steadfast love and faithfulness meet; righteousness and peace kiss each other." Psalm 85:10 

Hundreds of people walk the mountain with flags strapped to their backs, waving them proudly in their hands.

But look: there He is also. The man stripped bare, bloody and bruised, He is carrying the heavy wooden cross up the mountain upon which he will die, He carries it for us. He carries it for all of us. The oppressed... the oppressor... He carries it for this messed up world. He carries it that the poor would know good news - that the broken-hearted would be made whole - that those who mourn would know joy - that those in prison would be guilty no longer - that those enslaved... would be set free. Truly Free. Free Indeed.

Come Lord Jesus. Bring back what was lost.