Russellings of the Spirit

Here it is, the first day of March.

Which means, I missed it completely.

What I mean is, I missed the chance to say anything in this space during the month of February about the fact that it was Black History Month.

I missed the chance to pay homage to one of either the sung or the unsung African Americans who made important contributions to our American experience.

I missed the chance to reflect on the fact that in spite of the landmark victories in the civil rights struggle won by people like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and John Lewis, and Medgar Evers, and Rosa Parks, and Bayard Rustin, and Fannie Lou Hamer, racism still casts a long and dark shadow over our land.

I missed the chance to stand silently in humble awe of all those who stood nonviolently and endured fire hoses, attack dogs, Billy clubs to the side of the head, bullets, nooses, firebombs, and hateful words screamed in their ears, and then came back the next day and faced it all over again.

I missed the chance to reflect on all the ways that I – an aging white, middle-class male – have personally benefited from the uneven playing field that racism has created. 

I missed the chance to pledge my energies to interrupting racism whenever it rears its malevolent head in my presence.

I missed the chance to remind you (and myself) that diversity – in race, gender, faith, outlook, ability, or any other human characteristic – is a gift to cherish and not a problem to be solved. 

I missed those chances – and more – because I didn’t think Black History Month had anything to do with me… because, you know, I’m not Black. 

I thought this was your observance, not mine.

And you see that last statement may well be the biggest of all of my “missed chances” of the past 28 days. Because you see, when White people decide that Black History Month doesn’t have anything to do with them, they only succeed in adding more brick and mortar to this country’s towering Wall of Racial Isolation.

When we fail to grasp the deep intertwining of Black History with White History in these United States, we actively cultivate the perpetuation of the state of US vs. THEM. 

White people can indulge in that kind of subconscious omission and not think twice about it. Because that’s the way it works when you are a member of the majority class. 

So, I beg your forgiveness for my blindness, brothers and sisters (though I don’t really deserve it).

Black History Month may be over. But Black History lives on.

Abundant blessings;