Reflection: Exploring Our Racism

When I was asked to reflect on my time in City Church’s Exploring Our Racism group, I realized that I couldn’t share any thoughts before offering this preface: I am going to say something racist as I work these things out. Something I love about this group was that we had rules, and accepting that we would say racist things was one of the rules—we went over it at every meeting. It was a call to understand that we all are on a journey, and we’re going to mess up. That has to be okay in order for there to be any safety or opportunity for growth. 

I came into this thinking I had covered a lot of ground in my own work with racism. I could admit that I was racist, that I had had hard conversations with my black friends about race—I was doing a lot of things right. Austin Channing Brown’s book I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness served as the framework for this group, and one of the last chapters of her book challenged my way of thinking. It was a chapter on racial reconciliation titled “Justice Before Reconciliation.” As I read that chapter, I realized that racial reconciliation and diversity efforts within my own heart have been entirely about the pursuit of unity, praise, and comfort. My reasons for seeking out friends of different cultures has been because I want others to see me as “culturally aware” and “inclusive.” But, really, I think it’s uglier than that. I want to be praised for those efforts. I’ve hosted parties where I’ve sought to invite black, Asian, or Hispanic “friends” just to have “diversity” at my party. As a Black woman in the church, Austin Channing Brown is well-acquainted with people like me who have used her in order to look good before others. It’s in hard moments of clarity like that where I’m so grateful for the God Man who bore my shame in its entirety because I can so easily choose to just sit in it and hate myself. Dealing with my racism has given me greater urgency to come to the cross of Jesus and be reminded just how much forgiving I need. It's felt like God is restoring to me “the joy of my salvation,” like I’ve read in the psalms.

Reconciliation itself is God’s concept; it’s a concept that requires one to recognize the power he or she has and then to make the choice to forsake that power in order to restore relationships. Brown points out to the reader that the person of Jesus left the comfort, glory, and power associated with His divinity and “emptied himself,” of it (Philippians 2:6). She then discusses how this relates to racial reconciliation within the church. She says that white people have power just because of the pigment of melanin in their skin, and that my efforts to be friendly towards, get coffee with, or invite to social gatherings those who are of a different pigment than mine are not what is going to bring true reconciliation. The starting point needs to be seeking and doing justice where there is injustice. 

Brown unapologetically asks the reader to consider action rather than inaction, and I’m still in the “toddler phase” of this process, I think. I’m learning the language and the different aspects of injustices in our culture; it’s like I’m becoming aware of a whole new world that has been here all along, but I’ve been blind to it. My best metaphor for this comes from the movie Men in Black—there’s reality, and then there’s a whole other realm of reality which you have to be exposed to in order to believe it’s real. At this point, my main question and prayer has been, “God, what is my role in this? How do I seek justice?” Meanwhile, I am choosing to listen to podcasts, news reports, blogs, etc. by people of color (predominantly Black, I will say). I live in White America, we live in White America. That’s not bad, but the mentality that Whiteness is normal and Blackness needs to get on board with White culture is. Whiteness has the opportunity to engage in what it’s like to be a minority; Blackness does not have the choice. One thing I’d encourage anyone to do if you are curious to engage this "other reality" is go somewhere where you are a minority, by yourself. Think about what comes up for you prior to going and as you are there. What questions, emotions, thoughts pop into your mind/heart? Write them down and then talk about them with someone else. 

There is so much life to be found in exploring my own racism—in all of us exploring our racism. There’s so much ugliness, too. I’m recognizing that I have much to learn about the suffering, pain, resilience, and Kingdom pursuit of my Black brothers and sisters after being part of this group. But making the choice to try to learn and try to understand is a good starting point for us all.