I’m not racist.
Neither are most of the white people I know. But finally, at long last, I’m starting to have an inkling that, given our nation’s history and track record (ugh. No pun intended), being “not racist” needs to be a little more proactive and intentional than being passive and “nice,” having brown friends, and telling them they’re welcome to come to church with us.
How was Ahmaud Arbery (whose birthday is today, by the way) murdered in February and I only found out about it three days ago? (Only after I started writing this post did I learn it happened in February.) Don’t even answer that question. None of the possible answers are acceptable.
At the beginning of this week I was still sobbing about my dog–and the grief has not subsided, but you guys, my little black dog had a better death than this black man (and…
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