Trying not to be blind

Police officers in riot gear watching demonstrators in St. Louis. Credit Joshua Lott/Reuters

Driving around my city today, trying not to be blind.  Military vehicles and fatigues are sprinkled through my route from preschool, to Good Will, to the park, and home.  Hummers painted army green loiter in firehouse driveways.  A man in camouflage fatigues graciously accepts the motions of praise from a white woman in the car next to mine.  She looks like my best friend’s mom.  Three young black men ride their bikes across the intersection.  They see, though they do not look.  And I’m just driving around trying not to be blind.

My throat clenches and I can’t answer the questions about snacks from the back seat.  An uncomfortable anger wells up.  I see, though dimly, the system iron clad and perfect: the simple, genial white support of a system that wields weapons of war to silence boys on bikes.   I’m a nice fitting little cog in this machine – with my aversion to drama and conflict.  But today I peek under the curtain and the reality makes me want to tear it down.  I’ve been a good person among good people in a system that consumes and destroys lives and bodies.   My goodness must look different.  My goodness must include anger and conflict, as well as hope and optimism.  My confidence must come from trusting my fellow human who has grown up in a different America than I ever knew.  And for my love of life, in this moment in history, I will use my status as a working cog to slow this damned system down until we can build one where #blacklivesmatter.  White sisters and brothers who love this country, this is our cause too.   Be a new kind of good!