I like the show, black-ish. It’s my new favorite television comedy series. That is not a commentary, or a statement made on behalf of anyone but me. I like the show. There may be others who don’t. The show makes me take a look at my own perceptions and biases and understanding of the world and my experience in it. It also makes me laugh.
In my opinion, black-ish does a good job of showing some of the nuances of navigating cultural experiences across generations and from one person to the next. Recently, the family in the show were planning a ski vacation over the Martin Luther King holiday weekend. As they prepared, the father, Dre (played by Anthony Anderson), braced himself in preparation for a weekend where he anticipated they would be the only African-American family at the ski resort. After much discussion, Dre’s wife, Rainbow (played by Tracee Ellis Ross) said to him, “Racism does exist, but we may not experience it this weekend.”
The Importance of Vision
I shared this scene from the television show with a church group I spoke to last Sunday. They wanted me to tell them about my trip to Ferguson. One of the women in the audience asked a question that comes up every time I speak to a group about race in America: “What can we do about injustice in our community?”
It’s a question that acknowledges the first part of Rainbow’s declaration: the truth that injustice does, in fact, exist. That’s a big acknowledgement. It’s also a big acknowledgement because it recognizes that injustices happen in your very own neighborhood, church, school, family.
The second part of Rainbow’s declaration is also true: we may not experience injustice this weekend (or next weekend, or the weekend after that). There is a strange tension in this part of Rainbow’s statement. Some of us anticipate injustice, and we brace against it in ways that are both efficient and exhausting; when faced with injustice our worst beliefs about the world and humanity are confirmed and solidified in our hearts. But there are some of us who seek out manifestations of justice, believing the best in others and/or misinterpreting acts of injustice for something else; so that we are stunned when brought face-to-face with injustice in the course of our day. Then, there is everyone in between.
Some acts of injustice are large and sweeping and we all point our fingers and say, “There! That’s injustice!” Other acts of injustice are subtle (micro-aggressions) and might easily go unnoticed, except by the person offended by the act. I witnessed one of these small acts of injustice last week. It happened so quickly, and it was clearly wrong, but it was so subtle I nearly missed it. In my head, I heard myself thinking, “Did he just say that? Is anyone going to call him on that?” He did say it. And no, no one called him on it. Not even me.
I can make all kinds of excuses for not saying anything. I can tell you my defenses were down because this was one of the last places I expected to hear someone say something like that. I could tell you I was at the back of the crowd and didn’t want to call him out in front of everyone. I could tell you I was too astounded to say anything. I could tell you I didn’t want to make a scene. All of these things are true, but they are not an excuse.
The main reason I didn’t say anything is because I didn’t have a vision for what to do, or what I wanted to accomplish. I didn’t have a clearly thought out response for confronting injustice in a way that shows grace and that advances the conversation and allows for transformation. That is what I want. That is what I think people want when they ask, “What can I DO?”
Begin With What You Value
We don’t want to go home at night and fight with ourselves or rationalize to ourselves all the reasons we didn’t do anything at all when injustice showed up on the scene. But this is true, too: We don’t want to say the wrong thing. We don’t want to make things worse. We don’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill. I think this is the case more than the fact that we don’t see injustice or know that it exists. Maybe I’m wrong. Either way, I think having a clear sense of what matters to me would help.
When it comes to confronting injustice, these are the things I know about me. These are three things I value, and I stated them earlier, but I’ll share them again here:
- I want to show grace. Grace may sound wispy and wimpy, but it is so much more than that. It is wispy-sounding to the ear, but it is far from wimpy. Grace is strong, and it is resolute, and it does not back down or surrender or give in, even when the pressure is on. Grace sees the truth and, when the truth is unsavory, it opens a door to a better option.
- I want to advance the conversation. I don’t want to shut anyone down, or make them think they’ve committed some unforgivable thing that can never be redeemed. God is redeeming all things, and injustice is not beyond God’s restorative and redemptive reach.
- I want to allow for transformation. In confronting injustice when it shows up, I want to create an environment where the Holy Spirit can work something new in the hearts of each person involved, beginning with me, and including the perpetrators of the injustice.
Does Injustice Matter to You?
Of course, the main thing to consider is whether or not injustice matters to you. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. If confronting injustice isn’t important to you, you don’t need to defend that. You simply need to own it and know that, when you see injustice, you are being true to yourself if you don’t confront it. If, however, confronting injustice is something you’d like to figure out for yourself, working your values into a vision could help you know when to speak up, and what to say when you do.
If I’d had a vision in place last week when I heard that subtle comment, I would have extended grace by not calling out the commenter in public. Instead, I would have waited until I could speak to him with no one else around and I would have been respectful. But I would have said something.
If I’d had a vision in place last week when I heard that subtle comment, I would have tried to keep the lines of communication open by not calling the commenter names, or making a judgement about him as a person. Instead, I may simply have asked, “Why did you say…?” and I would have repeated his comment back to him. Then, I would have listened to his response.
If I’d had a vision in place last week when I heard that subtle comment, perhaps I would have prayed. I would have asked God to fill me with the Holy Spirit so that I would have the courage, the grace, and the wisdom needed for such a time as that. I would have asked God to transform me in that moment to be an agent of grace, restoration, and redemption.
In the Smallest and Greatest Moments
We’ve seen a lot of brave people in recent days. We’ve seen people shutting down cities to protest injustice. We’ve seen scholars and educators choosing to press through in spite of how the world may seem stacked against them. We’ve seen people give their lives rather than recant their beliefs, suffering violence that causes us to tremble and pray. Many of us are asking ourselves, “Could I be that brave?” We wonder if we’d be able to stand up for what we believe in, when standing toe-to-toe with injustice.
The best thing we can do to be prepared in any situation, is to be filled up with and surrendered to the Holy Spirit. When it comes to confronting injustice, having a vision of a preferred future helps to define why confronting injustice matters to you. And, if injustice matters to you, begin by letting the Holy Spirit be in charge of the moment. Because—in the smallest and greatest moments of injustice—we don’t fight against flesh and blood.
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Some questions for you: When it comes to confronting injustice, do you know what you value? What does it mean to you to have a clear vision for a preferred future? Has anyone ever confronted you regarding something you’ve said or done? What did they say or do that opened a door to transformation for you?
Thanks for the wise advice, a reminder that soft words spoken firm but without anger will be heard over loud, forceful words spoken in the heat of the moment. I love the idea of having a vision in place, because it means having a more thoughtful exchange with an offending person. This always seems to go better for all parties involved – public humiliation does not work, whether that is the intent or not. Recently, I overheard a conversation that left me struck dumb, and the ladies to whom the comments were made were also in disbelief, talking about it after the person left them. I wanted to run after the man, but it wasn’t my fight, right? I want to be ready next time, in private, with grace, but willing to open up the dialog. What a timely subject!
I often find myself replaying a scene in my mind, with me saying all the right and profound things, instead of standing there saying nothing at all (which is actually what happened). I hope that these steps help me make a different choice if given the opportunity. Ideally, of course, there would be no need to think through these things, but since there is, I want to be prepared to give a response rather than simply react out of my emotions.
Hi Deidra … ‘Begin With What You Value.’ I love these words you’ve penned today. They’re a great foundation, a necessary consideration. We’ve gotta know what’s important to us, claim it, stand on it, stand up for it.
So much food for thought here, as ever, friend. I’m grateful you’re in my world.
There are also consequences that come with our action, or inaction. And we’ve got to be willing to accept them, whatever they may be. Thanks for reading, Linda. And thank you for your words of encouragement.
“When it comes to confronting injustice, these are the things I know about me.” what an important statement… to know ourselves and from this spot see a vision of how we move forward… if we don’t… so much of our response can just be emotional… and therefore hurtful and do more harm than good… thanks for giving me so much to ponder and good questions to ask myself… as always… thanks so much Deidra!!!!
Oh, yes. I have certainly been guilty of offering an emotional reaction which did nothing to advance the conversation and was many steps away from grace. Thankfully, we get to keep working this out, and God has promised to stick with us all the way.
Oh…this is SO good. I want to have a vision….and courage!
Me too, Karen. 🙂
I am so grateful for you, Deidra. This is excellent, and really truly helpful.
Xo
I’m glad, Kris. I hope it makes a difference—with me, first, and then with others.
I was wondering what to meditate on during Lent. You just solved my problem. Do you know, really know, how deep your words move, friend?
You are kind. If there’s anything here that has any merit or value, I’d be way off base not to give the credit to God, who is patient with me and full of grace as I slowly, slowly, slowly learn to follow where he’s leading. Oh, so slowly.
Deidra, you always make me think. This is thoughtfully, prayerfully prepared, and it does sound as if you have a vision now. I say I believe in justice, and now I have to start self-examination to see if my actions and words align with my beliefs. I’m praying and working on this. Sometimes I’ve put feet to my beliefs about justice in prolife lines and personal testimonies, and in fighting against filthy movies when my daughter was in school. I wrote lots of long letters to the principal and had lots of personnel visits until something changed. I felt it was an injustice to do this to kids who were captive audiences in Christian school. But I hardly do enough. Again, I’m thinking, praying, envisioning (your word and a good one). I would respectfully disagree with you on this point: “If confronting injustice isn’t important to you, you don’t need to defend that. You simply need to own it and know that, when you see injustice, you are being true to yourself if you don’t confront it.” This may be true in the sense that we are being true to ourselves, but as Christians, I don’t think Christ gives us an option to own this particular viewpoint. I think we need to stand up against injustice and confront it. Figuring out exactly what injustice is and how to stand is another matter. Thankfully, having His Word and Spirit will help us. But I don’t think we have the option of copping out because it’s “not our thing and to our own thing be true,” if you know what I mean. I say that with respect, but I’m hoping to make a point (one I may live to regret). I hope I don’t have to eat those words. And I would ask you, when is it okay to *fight* for justice, and how does that jibe with grace?Thanks again for keeping at this and asking that we do the same!
Love
Lynn
Thanks so much for pushing back on that particular point, Lynn. I agree with you. As Christians, I don’t know how we get a pass when it comes to injustice. By the same token, I believe it’s up to each person to realize this truth for herself, as she lives in relationship with Christ, as part of the Body of Christ. Someone whose journey has her in a place where injustice isn’t her thing might not see how this post applies to her at all, and I simply wanted to allow for that, here. But, I’m with you, friend. For me, it’s not an option. So, the next thing is to figure out what to do about that, as the person God has created me to be. I hope that makes sense and again, thank you for speaking up on that point. 🙂
Thanks for understanding, Deidra. I greatly appreciate it. And it’s really hard when we realize that point….how do we live it out? I pray I am up for this challenge. Thankyou so much.
Your 3 points could be the solution to every life problem … at least the relational ones.
Excellent post and such a great way to think about how to respond even to the smallest injustices. Its a very “Micah 6:8” approach to life. Thoughtful, intentional, simple and yet deep, profound and incredibly difficult in the moment.
Oh gosh yes, someone did confront me, someone did accuse me of being racist, in front of the students I was trying to help but who had disrespected me and my class. It was one of the most painful experiences I’ve ever been through. I was able to answer my accusers with grace.
Yes I didn’t phrase something properly but that too was a bit of a set up. But oh boy, I wailed from the bottom of my soul when I got home. That same semester my students called me “black” because I understood them, after showing Kai Davis “F– I look like”.
About three weeks later dear friends were brutally attacked by three young people, in what seemed like a hate crime and not a simple robbery. I was emotionally whipsawed between the two experiences.
The next semester, all I could do was walk into my classrooms and teach my new students who themselves were full of grace, kids who wanted to be there, and who loved me, I loved them. This year’s kids are that way too.
Deidra Riggs, thank you so much for welcoming me into your community in concrete ways. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.