Building Bridges Across Racial Divides

My White Journey with Black Friends

We were in Montgomery, Alabama to visit the Equal Justice Initiative Legacy Museum. It is located on the former site of a Cotton Warehouse where enslaved Black people were forced to labor. The Museum is an interactive museum that tells a comprehensive history of blacks in America.

I am not so sure that I would have been standing in this line ten years ago. While I have a heart for the vulnerable, I was not aware of or maybe I had chose not to be aware of the injustices that still exist in communities across America today. I am white. In front of me in the line was a black man and woman. Behind me was the very long journey I had been on to that point. Behind that were the baggages of my life. In 2020 I started crossing a huge gorge over an expansive bridge and I did not even leave my home.

Photo by Michael Heuser on Unsplash

White, Southern, Baptist

All the news coverage during 2020 led me to read more about the role of race in American society. My deep concern for the vulnerable and the oppressed began when I traveled to India in 2010. The organizations and ministries I volunteered with had a tremendous impact on how I view the world today. You can read about those journeys here. But 2020 was a different sort of journey. Unable to travel, I turned to books, most of which I have listed for you at the end of this essay. That reading has also had an impact on how I see my own country.

The Civil Rights movement happened during my childhood. Voting Rights for Black Americans were not ratified until 1965. Born in 1960 in Alexandria, Louisiana, I did not really understand the significance of what was happening around me. My parents were born in the early 1920s and therefore were a product of the cultural systems they grew up in.

We attended a Southern Baptist church. In the early seventies, one of our ministers began bringing some black boys to church on Wednesday nights. The older congregation became very upset. The church called a formal business meeting to discuss the situation. One of the older and respected men of the church said to the boys one night that they “didn’t belong there.” I can remember feeling deeply unsettled that he had said that to the boys. I didn't really understand why they were not welcome. This was church after all. But as I later learned, the Southern Baptist church I attended was a product of the larger convention of churches that was initially formed in part to keep black people out of churches with whites.

By 1969, our schools became integrated by law. Before that, my early years of elementary school we were still segregated. Desegregation meant “Busing” kids across town to attend school to balance the populations, and talk of this consumed the city. The south was beginning to change, but was it? The only outcome of that Baptist church meeting that I can recall was that within a couple of months the minister had resigned and moved to another town.

The high school I eventually attended was built in 1969 to accommodate a growing city and of course to help with desegregation. I remember hearing rumors of black boys with knives in the school, rumors of kids fighting, rumors of drugs being brought into the school. However, the reality was far different. While those events may have occurred, the rumors distorted their prevalence. By the time I reached high school in 1974 even those rumors had vanished.

So there I was in 2020 looking back at my southern roots and beginning to see things differently. I began reading various books and seeing the American South from a different perspective than my own childhood perceptions. I had traveled through high school, college and work places in an integrated society but did I really understand the segregation that still existed on my own white bus? Was I willing to give up my seat on the bus to listen and learn of the injustices that still prevailed. The injustices of the black community that I was still blinded too?

I read books by Jemar Tisby and Bryan Stephenson and others(see list below). I learned about Emmett Till. I learned about theTulsa massacre. I read books on racial injustice. I read memoirs, I read historical fiction, I read various genres that dealt with racial inequality. There are things in our lives that we choose not to think about as long as we are getting what we want.

Building a Bridge

Along this journey I had read Latasha Morrisons book Be The Bridge which focuses on “the power of the gospel” to help bridge the racial divide. On a friend’s invitation, I joined a weekly Zoom group sponsored by a Houston church to discuss issues raised in the book. The group was of mixed race, people from North Carolina, Arkansas and Texas, ministers, teachers, all Christians. We were encouraged to be honest and open. I found that through our connection to Christ it was a safe place to ask questions. These new friends talked about the injustices they faced daily because of their skin color. The book takes you on a journey of lament and reconciliation. .

Being a person of the sixties I recognized how some of my own behaviors contributed to ongoing injustices. AS a white person, I have so many privileges that seem like everyday life. I have three boys. When they were learning to drive, I did not have to sit them down and instruct them to put their hands on the steering wheel if they ever got pulled over on a traffic stop. I did not have to tell them to let the officer know they were reaching for their wallet to get their drivers license. They had to tell the officer what they were doing so the officer would not think they were reaching for a weapon. I heard these stories from my friends. I didn’t have to worry about where my next meal might come from. I had two parents at home to provide for my needs. People without my background can be left out and left behind because of the privileges I have as a white person.

As part of our class we watched this short four minute video. It gives a good illustration of the privileges most white people enjoy in America. The Race

As we looked at scripture, I began to see and get a glimpse into a biblical interpretation from a black persons perspective. I looked into the faces of real people who had suffered hardships due to the color of their skin. I told of things I had witnessed when I was growing up. I confessed things I had been a part of that I am now ashamed of. We all cried. We listened to each other’s stories. I began to have a new perspective. We lamented the atrocities of slavery and injustices together as we read Lamentations and looked at various scriptures. We actually read from the book of Lamentations, which I dare you to find in a Sunday morning curriculum.

In the book Be The Bridge, story after story is told of white people coming to terms with the understanding of systemic privilege. One such story is from Elizabeth Behrens,

“Elizabeth Behrens told me(Latasha Morrison) how she came to terms with the guilt and shame of her systemic privilege. Through engaging with the Be the Bridge curriculum, reading further about the history of racism in the United States, and coming to terms with her own family’s participation in racism, she came to see the Americans—herself included—swim in a a sea of White centeredness. She shared how, no matter how hard we might fight against it, some of that water soaks into us as though we’re a sponge. ‘It’s impossible to grow up in the sea of white supremacy without absorbing some of it, whether that’s impact bias or prejudiced beliefs or discriminatory actions that we don’t realize we’re engaging in or that we’ve convinced ourselves are okay.’ She explained how coming to see that water for what it is, how recognizing the ways she benefited from white privilege, brought the weight of real guilt and shame. Elizabeth has come to see that none of us are disconnected from the sins of our culture’s past. Though she’d never lynched anyone, though she’d never owned a slave, she recognized how she’d been afforded better educational opportunities, increased access to services, and increased earning power.”

I have come to better understand Christs call for us to build bridges with those whose skin is different from ours. His call to all of us who are brothers and sister through Christ no matter the color of our skin. This love for others(all) is after all what I was taught in my white Sunday School in the 1960’s. But today these conversations are uncomfortable and many in America, especially in American Churches, do not want to feel guilt and shame over this history. There are many who do not want this history to be taught, known, discussed or felt. But this is my journey to tell and though it may categorize me politically, I am okay with that. It is truth, not fiction, that sets us free.

The Museum in Montgomery

My husband and I took a road trip to the east coast in 2021 and I was able to meet face to face with two of my new friends I had met on the zoom call. It was so wonderful for us to wrap our arms around each other and sit face to face over a meal. As we made our way back home we decided to stop in Montgomery. Through the Be The Bridge zoom group I had heard of Bryan Stephensons passion to tell the stories of slavery in the south through an interactive museum there and I wanted to see and experience it myself.

So there we were in Montgomery, Alabama standing in line to enter the museum. There was a black couple in front of us. I don’t remember how the conversation started but I learned they were from Chicago and we chatted a little about what had brought us to this place. I could tell there was a little apprehension in his voice and he may have been wondering what a white person really wanted to learn about racial inequality. Then I felt this nudge in my soul. I looked them in their eyes and I said. “I just want you to know, that I am very sorry for the injustices of discrimination that your people have experienced from my own white community”. The man just looked at me in shock and said “No white person has ever said that to me”. With tears in my eyes I told him of my journey, about my Be The Bridge group and the things I was learning. And I told him that I have a long way yet to go.

At the museum that day I learned even more about how racial inequality still exists in the justice system even today. Young black men are incarcerated at higher rates than young white men often for the same offenses. I personally knew one white boy who had been arrested on first offense marijuana charges and his punishment was fifteen hours of community service. At the museum I watched a video of a young black man who had been arrested on first offense marijuana charges who received eighteen months in jail. Fifteen hours of community service for the white, eighteen months in jail for the black, for the same offense.

That day we also visited the National Memorial, which is “dedicated to the legacy of Black Americans who were enslaved, terrorized by lynching, humiliated by racial segregation and presumed guilty and dangerous.”¹ On these grounds are the stories and names of Black people who were killed in racial lynchings between 1877 and 1950. Their names are engraved in steel monuments that hang from rafters of the building. This area provides a view into the life of enslaved people. It was heart wrenching to read some of their stories. Even as late as the 1950’s lynchings of black people still occurred. History class is not always easy.

At the Entrance to the Memorial

I am currently reading The Barn. The story of the murder of Emmett Till. However, the murder of Emmett Till doesn’t begin when Emmett was brutally murdered by white men. It begins in the early founding of the state of Mississippi. The author provides a detailed description of the greed and power that ran throughout the south and how it is still there today. He details how the Indigenous people group of the Choctaw were eventually driven off their land through government deals and corruption and It tells of the Cotten era, slavery, Jim Crow, up to modern day. It is a riveting book that makes clear how the greed of white men and the pursuit of power have kept parts of the South in despair—as others rise to prominence and wealth. It seems that we are seeing that still played out even today.

A view from a Bridge

We ended our trip to Montgomery by walking down the street that Martin Luther King Jr walked toward the courthouse in March 1965. I looked down the steps of the courthouse onto the street and further down to the original Cotton Warehouse district. I thought of the large crowds that followed him that day. I thought of the thousands of slaves that were bought and sold here in this city.

As Dr King stood on those steps after three attempts to do the march, he and 25,0000 others had finally made it. The march from Selma to Montgomery took five days starting on March 21, 1965 and ending in Montgomery March 25.² The march was allowed, after two other attempts because President Johnson intervened and pledged his support. Dr King gave his “Our God is Marching On” speech calling for voting rights of African Americans. To stand on those steps and envision a crowd that size making a stand against racial injustices, I can only imagine the pride they all felt. But still understanding they had a long way to go.

Montgomery Courthouse

On August 6th of that same year, 1965, President Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act of 1965. I was almost five years old, my journey was just beginning. It would still be several years before black students were allowed to go to school with white students.

We have come a long distance, But racial divisions persist. Lyndon Johnson said:

“There is no negro problem. There is no Southern problem. There is no Northern problem. There is only an American problem. Their cause must be our cause too. Because it is not just Negros, but really it is all of us, who must overcome the crippling legacy of bigotry and injustice. And we shall overcome.”

I believe these words are true. But I doubt the majority of Americans believe the words President Johnson spoke. The “crippling legacy of bigotry and injustice” is evident in what we teach and in what we refuse to teach. It is white washed to hide and protect our idea of Americas freedom journey.

So have we really overcome our prejudices? I am not so sure. I know I still have my own work to do. But, I want to do the work. Do you?

Wall Billboard in Downtown Montgomery, Alabama

*Books I have read on my journey*

1. Just Mercy Written by Bryan Stevenson. It opened my eyes to the injustices of the black community

   

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2. The Color of Compromise. Written by Jemar Tisby. This opened my eyes to the racial injustices that occurred right in our churches.

   

3. How to fight Racism Also written by Jemar Tisby with helpful concepts of engaging others.

   

4. Be The Bridge Written by Latasha Morrison. This focuses on “the power of the gospel” to help brig the racial divide

   

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5. Reading while Black. Written by Esau McCauley. This book focuses on Black biblical interpretation of scripture. Very interesting read to learn the perspective of teaching from the Black Church

   

6. How Far to the Promised LaND. Esau McCauleys memoir of growing up Black in the South

   

7. I'm still here Written by Austin Channing Brown. She writes of growing up Black, Christian, and female.

   

8. Humankind Written by Ashlee Eiland. Ashlee writes about growing up the token black girl in majority-white spaces and the “whitewashed” black girl in majority-black spaces.

   

9. The Barn. The riveting story of Emmett Till and the history of Mississippi

   

10. The Book of Lost Friends. Written by Lisa Wyngate. This is a historical fiction account of the reconstruction era. A story of finding family after slavery ended

    

    11 .Stamped: Racism, Antiracism and You: A remix Written by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi. Shines a light on the forms of racist ideas— and ways you can identify and stamp out racist thoughts.

    

1. https://legacysites.eji.org/about/

2. https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/selma-montgomery-march