Confession of a White Guy
“You know that it is unlawful for a Jew to associate with a Gentile. But God has shown me that I should not call anyone profane or unclean... I truly understand that God shows no partiality...anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.”
Driving in rush traffic on Highway 280 is not for the faint. Among other things, it is a litmus test for deep prejudice in this aging white guy. Driver going too fast, too slow, cuts me off, won’t get out of my way, music too loud... I catch sight of the driver... It might be some incarnation of female...teen, soccer mom, older woman, etc. Or maybe it’s a Black or Latino person, any age or gender... Or even a young white wise guy...
And wham! There it is. Erupting from somewhere, short-circuiting my best brain and heart... Mouth-breathed, “Grrrr! Well, of course... It’s a woman, a black or Latino dude...young wise guy.....’ Though often a #&%@&! vocalization, I don’t make it worse by using those terrible terms that are still around. But it is bad enough. In that split-second, I face a not too deep from the surface part of me that makes the big divide between people like me and those OTHER people.
(If it happens to be an aging bespectacled, balding Baby Boomer guy, well, then he gets a pass, probably has a lot on his mind...unless he has the other political party bumper sticker...then back to #&%@&!)
Whatever it is, it goes back deep into our history and psyche, in general and in particular as humans. When stressed, frustrated, what’s going on inside us gets projected on someone/thing outside us. Blame is always easier than taking responsibility.
Historical Sidebar: I am a BBSOB, Birmingham Born Son of Birmingham. I grew up in the late 1950’s-1960’s segregation, civil rights cauldron here.
Overall, my family, church, gaggle of pals were pretty similar. Except, there was an alternating spoken/unspoken division over segregation-integration views.
I was early persuaded by my uncle, mother and a couple subtle Sunday school teachers, who were in the all-equal minority among our church and family types. My buddy Johnny and I quietly figured out we felt pretty much the same.
In September 1963, while I was in Sunday school at Ensley First Methodist, a ten-minute drive away, the bomb blew at the church downtown. In September 1964, 2,000-student Ensley High School was “integrated” with two black kids. I don’t recall the girl’s name but do recall the guy’s name, Alan Dunn.
Juniors, my buddy Johnny and I were in Miss Selman’s boys’ chorus class. Alan always sat down front closest to the door, last in and first out. One day, Miss Selman was late. Several gents began to rain down spitballs on Alan. Deep breath, he sighed and put his head down on his desk.
I recall that Johnny and I looked at each other silently agreeing this was wrong. Maybe, we felt a little better about ourselves for our budding belief in equality. What we didn’t do, probably didn’t even occur to us in our hormone crazed adolescent brains, was to stand up, tell others to knock it off, for sure, not sit with Alan at his table for one in the crowded lunchroom.
Back to 2020 Birmingham, USA: With what happened in Minneapolis and all the other places, we are in a new time of personal speaking/acting, and figuring out the societal systemic changes that are needed.
It’s complicated. There is a personal side and a systemic side. God’s agape love will never fully reign in society until all hearts are changed.
I can’t speak for all aging white guys, but I know enough. It’s hard to admit not just our hard work but that ‘male-white privilege thing’ opened (still opens) doors for us, unavailable, at least more narrow, for certain others. For some, there is the sense that we have never quite sold for what we are worth. And so whether driving on 280 or in other stressed situations, we project our inner frustrations, insecurities on others.
Wow and Doxology. Across my life, more and more of those heart changes happen. As my cool friend Andy Wolfe says, Jesus messes with us. Across time, we have the delightful experience of hanging out with cool black colleagues and friends. We begin to get a glimmer of how insidious is the system in which no one and everyone is to blame.
And that brings us to the systemic deal. George Floyd is exhibit #12,817,407+ that we don’t have time to wait for every heart to change. Towering 20th century theologian Reinhold Niebuhr described justice as rough-cut agape-love applied in society. There have to be legal and policy changes to protect all and give more level playing/living/working fields for all.
Peter, the slippery rock guy Jesus said was the type on which he would build his church, started out a little-bit-racist. The God of Jesus with that wild vision of all sorts of Kosher and non-Kosher animals declared clean started (continued) messing with Peter. From Rocky Simon’s personal change of heart ensued the ongoing systemic change of Christian faith for all not just some.
Now, the embedded guy from 11th grade boys’ chorus class and the codger fuming in traffic has to admit once again, I know better than I live. Though so much easier and more fun to confess other people’s sins, I have got-to and by grace I get-to confess my own sins.