Eventually, answers came.
When James met my parents for the first time a couple of months later, race was not an issue. They were smitten by the love this man held for their daughter.
When the two of us flew to Mississippi to meet his family, my litany of questions was answered in a single sentence: It’s not so much about you, a white woman, entering this family, James’ uncle said to me, but it’s about you realizing the impact his father has had on the WORLD.
Arthur’s emphasis lay on the final word, the impact of his thoughts noting pride and honor in his brother’s accomplishments. For James Meredith, I’d come to learn, fought not for the equal rights of African Americans, but for equal rights for all of humanity. That’s what made him a world changer.
I nodded my head. I had a lot to learn.
A statue of James Meredith walking toward a door that says “Courage” on the University of Mississippi campus. Courtesy VisitOxfordMs.com
—
Eleven months after we met for the first time, James and I married, settling down in the San Francisco Bay Area. The hardships of our relationship in the early years had nothing to do with our respective races but everything to do with learning how to accept the differences and otherness of each other, which included our histories and our cultures.
When the question of children arose, privately and publicly, we found ourselves entering into a whole new dialogue: Would we raise our family in a city we loved, even if we couldn’t realistically afford it? Did it make a difference whether or not our children saw people who looked like both Mama and Daddy?
We chose the route that was right for us, a route that eventually included moving to a place we could afford with a diverse multi-cultural community.
Eventually, we had a son, Canon, whom we proudly nicknamed our “little caramel.” Two years later, Theodore, known as our “little cappuccino” joined the family. Our world is entirely consumed by the little ones who fill our hearts, and who have given us a newer, greater appreciation for issues of racial justice in today’s society.
For we want nothing more than for them to grow up to be kind men who realize that all are equal and all are good and all are valued, precisely for their stamp of humanity. Every single human to grace this good earth has been made in the image of God, and God does not make mistakes.
Our multi-colored family. Photo: Sela Photography
Last spring, the four of us were driving down the road, when Canon pointed out the car window.
“Who’s that?” he asked, pointing at a homeless woman perched on the corner.
“That’s a person.”
“Who’s that?” he asked again, pointing at a young man with pink hair.
“That’s a person, too.”
“Why?”
“Well, because persons are humans.”
“Why?”
“Well, because humans matter, buddy. You and me, we matter, even if we look different from each other. And every single person on this earth, they’re humans. They matter just because they’re humans.”
This is the truth we want our children to know and pass on to the world. This is the truth we want them to model and invite others into. This is the truth we want them to live into, for even in our differences, a greater truth is embedded within our humanity because we are God’s own.
Regardless of the color of our skin, we have intrinsic worth in the eyes of God.
And this is something, I’m guessing, that you want for your family and your children, too. It starts with noticing: take notice of the faces in your community, of those who make up – or don’t make up – the schools and the churches and the shopping malls you inhabit every day.
Who are those faces to you? What do they represent for you?
Stare at the color of your skin, perhaps for the first time. If you are white, your skin color alone grants you privilege in our society. Privilege isn’t a word we like to hear: it makes the hairs on our backs stand up and an ugly, defensive spirit can emerge within us.
But the ability to ignore the news of innocent black men, women and children being killed is privilege.
The ability to not worry about your son or daughter being gunned down by the police for no reason is privilege.
The ability to walk through a store and not have an employee follow you is privilege.
“It’s the fact that simply by virtue of being a white person, of whatever socioeconomic status, you get the benefit of the doubt,” writes opinion columnist Christine Emba.
This privilege is far from just, but it’s true.
So, examine your privilege. Turn privilege into understanding, and let understanding guide you toward a desire to learn. Then, when your insides are itching and screaming and thundering for equality, let this desire be funneled into activism.
“All lives matter equally to God,” says World Impact President and CEO Efrem Smith. “But in this upside-down, broken and Bizarro world, not all lives are treated equally. This is why we must say Black Lives Matter.”
Let’s do something about this: let’s make all lives matter, including those of our black brothers and sisters.
I’m white, and I have come to no other conclusion but this: I have contributed to issues of racial injustice. I’ve had to educate myself, so I can deal with the shame and embarrassment that comes with ignorance.
But I’m committed to using my voice. I will speak up and I will tell the truth. I will beg for the courage to do and say and believe what hasn’t been done and said and believed before.
I’ve learned to accept that this new way of thinking is a journey I will travel on for the rest of my life. I’ve had to give myself extra amounts of grace, when I’ve made mistakes and said the wrong things, and I’ve had to pick myself up, all over again. But I wouldn’t change this new way of seeing the world for anything.
So, is it the same for you?
Are you willing to speak up and tell the truth, to your children and to your communities?
Do you have the courage to model these values and be a person of influence as we seek to change the narrative of our country, one relationship at a time?
We can be the change we wish to see in our families, our communities and our country. We can take a posture of learning and seek to understand what it means to love others first, before passing judgment upon them.
And in doing so, might we begin to see and celebrate and wildly applaud the profound bounty of color found on this earth. So we can then proclaim – loudly, unashamedly, gloriously – that every human matters.
Are you with me?
Check out Cara Meredith’s new book, The Color of Life: A Journey toward Love and Racial Justice, available now.
