As a culture, we are good at taking sides. Bolstered by regular incidents of violence by and against both police and citizens, as well as every-half-hour-on-the-half-hour fear-mongering from the news media, the nation is currently roiling over Black Lives Matter.
In print, on TV, and on radio, the loosely defined BLM movement is hailed or assailed, depending upon one’s perspective. From professional pundits to politicians to people on the street, it seems no one is lacking a strong opinion regarding BLM.
I suspect many of those opinions are self-serving. The prism through which we view the movement and the world around us more often than not shapes our perception to confirm beliefs we already have.
With every new public demonstration or act of violence against a suspect or police officer, the unease and tension of the populace is fanned by various parties vying for political and social power. When you don’t have a logical case to make, fear is a very effective means of rallying people to your cause.
I ran across a thoughtful note from Whittier Law School Professor Patricia Leary, who responded to an anonymous letter from students taking issue with the “Black Lives Matter” T-shirt she wore on campus one day.
She made a point about context. “If I say ‘Law Students Matter’ it does not imply that my colleagues, friends, and family do not… the Black Lines Matter movement arose in the context of evidence that they don’t.”
She refined the idea of context for the Black Lives Matter movement with words that implicitly precede the slogan: “Because of the brutalizing and killing of black people at the hands of the police and the indifference of society in general and the criminal justice system in particular, it is important that we say that….”
As a nation, we surely have been indifferent to the poor treatment — and the deaths — of minorities, from the country’s stealing land from its native inhabitants to our era, when people of color are not afforded the same opportunities and have more to fear from the authorities than white people.
But just when I think we are unwilling to do anything more then shout at each other about this issue, I see glimmers of hope.
In my community and others, people are gathering to talk around kitchen tables or in church basements, town halls, and school gymnasiums. At these gatherings, neighbors are discussing things they’ve never dared reveal before, sharing their fears and resentments, as well as their hopes for a better way to live together.
One friend posted an Instagram photo bearing words I take to heart: “things are not getting worse, they are getting uncovered. We must hold each other tight and continue to pull back the veil.”
Walking down the street, I’m saying hello to people in my neighborhood, acknowledging them no matter their color or style of dress. From my car or on foot, I wave to each police car or sheriff’s vehicle that rolls past.
Like me, those folks want this world to be a better, more equitable place. Maybe if we remember what we have in common and hold each other tight, we will get there together.
Pat Grimes, a former South Bay resident, writes from Ypsilanti, Mich. He can be reached at pgwriter@inbox.com
