A Future of Reconciliation

In recent days, there has been a great deal of discussion about race and specifically for racial reconciliation. I realized that I myself didn’t have an understanding of what such a thing means or what it would look like.

I do not speak for anyone but myself. I cannot say that I speak on behalf of anyone else and truthfully, I often feel alone in my opinions. That said, as a human being, as a human being who grew up in the United States, as a human being who is African American-or black as some say, my experiences are part of the black experience, the American experience, and the human experience. My opinions are significant for each of these reasons. I have spent my life trying to value truth while also listening to the experiences of others. I have not always been effective at doing so, but I would appreciate you at least trying to lend me the courtesy of trying to do so.

I speak offering my own hopes. What I long for will take time, and to be honest, I have a hard time believing it is possible. Furthermore, I cannot pretend that I have any special authority. I have often been reminded of this, but this is what racial reconciliation looks like when I try to envision it:

Caucasians or white people can be around me, without fearing a mistake or slip up that causes them to be judged or marked as evil. I want white Americans to acknowledge the history of African Americans, and that we are working through injury and distrust that was built up over centuries. I do not want the foundation of our interaction to be guilt but of rejoicing; I want us to rejoice because we are united because healing together after such a violent history has made us stronger. I hope this joy removes the discomfort that many Caucasian Americans feel. I do not want sad and guilty expressions whenever the word black comes up. I genuinely want Caucasian Americans to be comfortable even when they are the minority in a given place space and time. I want Caucasian Americans to feel safe asking questions, but to know that the answers may not apply to every black person they ever meet.

And I want to be comfortable around them. I don’t want to think of Emmett Till whenever I’m standing near a Caucasian female. I do not want to fear false accusation brought on by fear. I do not want to have to think so hard to communicate that I don’t mean harm. I want to walk into stores and not think about where my hands are, so that I can’t be accused of shoplifting. I want to have people ask me what I think as opposed to making assumptions regarding my opinions, affiliations, and reactions.

But it also goes beyond black and white for me. I hope that in this reconciliation, that I am reconciled to African American people. I love African American people, people who look like me, but I have never been part of many of the major cultural connections. I didn’t grow up with music, clothing, hair styles, or speaking in the ways that are familiar to many African Americans. For some, the way they talk switches based on who they are around. It is a survival mechanism. The way I speak doesn’t change, it takes many black people a while to see past historical hurts when they see me and hear me. But I hope that in the process of reconciling with Caucasian Americans, people also reconcile with me. I hope that a day will come where I won’t be written off as unwoke, or an adversary because I have an opinion that contradicts the norm. I hope that a day comes where different doesn’t mean dangerous, where my love is seen and valued. I long for a day when we can all look similar, but be different and still be safe.

This is what I hope for, and what racial reconciliation means to me. It is a vision of what might exist after the work of justice, forgiveness, discourse, and perseverance is complete. I wish I could say more and make my hopes as clear as possible, but alas, I must put my keys to rest.