A few months ago, I met with a group of about 12 “Young Leaders in Religion.” I’ll admit, I felt a bit of pride for being labeled as both “young” and a “leader” and I sat, with my chin just slightly raised, around a table of these intelligent, passionate, spiritual, intellectual human beings, feeling like co-conspirators that could change the world for the better if we just put our heads together.  I felt confident and equal to those around me, though clearly many of them had higher advanced degrees than I do, as well as more education in our field and certainly many of them had a higher intelligence or creative mind than I do. But I didn’t spend my energy thinking about that nor did I think too much about our ages. I never thought about our economic differences, and not once did I consider myself better or worse than any of them. Why? Because we were part of a team, a gathering of like individuals with a shared interest and a passion for the intelligent and informed perspectives on religion. We were all different, yet all the same in my mind.

As part of our meeting, we went around the table and introduced ourselves and what we were passionate about. There were a few women there that introduced themselves as black, one of whom also included in her introduction a passion for race equality. When they labeled themselves as black and so clearly emphasized this importance, for a moment I was taken aback. First of all, I hadn’t even thought of it. I quickly looked around the room to see if there were other black people there. There was one other woman, who was obviously not just white European but of some other ethnic descent- maybe Latina, I couldn’t really tell.  I wondered for the first time what ethnicities the people at the table were… And then I sat perplexed as to why that was such a prominent part of these women’s introductions.  After all, I didn’t say, “Hello my name is Deshna. I am a white woman…” Then I pondered why, in today’s world do we STILL need to be focusing so much attention on race? It caused me a bit of discomfort and I believe it was because all of sudden we weren’t the same anymore and I really didn’t FULLY understand where they were coming from. Were we not on the same team? My human mind, which desires to label, group, and classify, wondered.

Full disclosure: I am a middle class white woman living in a progressive city on the West Coast of the United States. I was raised in a mostly white city, but my parents were always egalitarians.  When I was young, my father who was in seminary, took me to the inner city of San Francisco where he worked in a program for low income, mostly black people. I didn’t see them as black back then either-  just interesting, kind of different from me people, who spoke slightly different than I did and whose faces intrigued me.  My current community is fully inclusive and to be completely frank, I hardly notice someone’s race when meeting them, speaking with them, or working with them. To me – people are simply that  –people. I try not to judge, but judgement is a normal part of being human and, I would even say a necessary part of being human, and when I do judge it is based on character not color.  Here in the USA we are an incredible rainbow of a melting pot of ethnicities and races…to call someone black or even African American never seems quite right to me. After all, I am not really white, I am peachy-olive. Nor am I European. My mom is more olive, my dad is more peachy. My daughter is a lovely half Latina, half ultra other mix whose color is closer to yellowy-pink. I love all the shades of brown and coffee and tan that exist in our plethora of mixes.  But race is simply not at the forefront of my mind. Until recently. I suspect this is how many white, educated people in my generation feel, but obviously, as Roof demonstrated, not all people of my generation are color blind.

To my dismay, there are still a huge proportion of people in our world and in the USA that are straight up racist and our police system – those that are sworn to serve and protect – are full of them, as well as our political leaders, church leaders, and teachers.

How I wish I could extricate their fear which feeds their hate. How I wish I could wrap my arms around them and cool the fire of discomfort and anger. How I wish they were taught in school about the interconnectedness of all beings. How I wish their parents or their pastors taught them to love as Jesus did, recognizing god within all. How I wish the darkness of rage would dissolve once they saw the beautiful faces of the mourning forgive this horrific act. How I wish our world political system didn’t divide the haves from the have nots fueling anger and resentment.

No, I truly don’t understand racism or violence. But I do understand that the path toward confronting it must begin at the deep levels of vast cultural and socio-political change. When 1% rules the world and owns the media, the government, and the health and energy systems, that leaves a lot of room for angry and disheartened people.  When people are angry or scared they look toward that which frightens them to place blame. Just as fundamental Christians today are pointing fingers at progressive Christians for the demise of church, racists look toward immigration and people of color for ruining their country, taking their jobs, or creating too much change.

But racism goes even deeper than economic disparity. Structural and institutional racism against blacks has made it very difficult for them to achieve success and to thrive. Our institutions systematically marginalize and put at a disadvantage blacks and many other people of color, while they afford white people an array of social, political and economic advantages.

When I was in New Orleans recently, I was suddenly aware of something that I hadn’t been the many times I had visited before- I was in the South! I was in a city where the amount of black people equals those of European descendants. And you know what? That is exactly one of the reasons why I love New Orleans so much- I just hadn’t thought of it before! I love black southern culture – the music, the art, the gentle and respectful ways, the boisterousness, the laughter, the dancing, the food. I wish we had more of it in the Pacific Northwest. I wish I had more friends who are black so I could understand more deeply what it means to be black in this world today. So that I could more fully understand why they need to claim this title proudly and to continue to work on efforts to bring attention to race and the persistent lack of equality. When I heard about the church shootings in Charleston, I was devastated. It felt like one step forward, two huge jumps back! I simply can not understand this kind of reckless and hateful violence and I was heart broken to think that black people in our country might feel that nothing enough has changed or progressed.

And then they stood and looked the killer in the eyes and forgave him. Holy moly, this took my breath away! Here are real Christians! And then began the wave of information and coverage on racism and its symbols, on our bloodied history and our tangled past which weaves its way into our present.

So, as tragic as this rash of violence and racism has been, maybe it is turning out to be the light shined upon the darkness that we all need to look at, closely.  And to look at that darkness, education needs to change – race issues and history should be a normal part of every public education in this country. Equality, compassion, and reconciliation should be courses in every high school. Additionally, governmental funding of violence- namely war- should be decreased and funding of education should be greatly increased. College should not equal debt or poverty. At the root of violence and racism is a lack of knowing, a lack of education. Lack of understanding leads to fear, fear leads to hate. Hate to violence. When was the last time you really examined public education and the curriculum taught there? When I did, I immediately took our daughter out of public school.  (That’s not to say that there aren’t great schools and wonderful caring teachers out there, just that our standard public education is greatly lacking) Church communities should be at the forefront of this movement- just as brave churches and denominations stepped forward on the LGTBQ equal rights, so should they be stepping up speaking out against war and corporate ownership of our world, economic disparities, and racism. To not talk about race actually worsens the problem.  It masks racial disparities and hinders social justice.

I learned a lot from this eBulletin and from this moment in history. One thing I learned is that I am part of the problem. I can no longer pretend that racism is a thing of the past. Desegregation was one step forward and electing a black president was another…but they are a few steps in a long line of marches that we all must join in on. Black lives do matter, of course. But it also matters that they are black people. Being black is completely integrated into who they are in this world.  It is time for us all to confront the shadow side of being human which is afraid of that which is different and is afraid of losing its place in line. And to do that we need to look at it clearly, rather than turn away from it, pretending it isn’t real. We can then shine the light on it, and overwhelm it with love. We must become more comfortable talking about racism, just as we have with sexism. Personally, I realize that I must begin fighting for equality of all human beings at all levels- race, sex, religion, economic. And next time I meet someone who is black and claims that label as an important part of who they are, I won’t be confused but rather interested in knowing more about what that means to them and how can I help their ever important cause.